Prodigy
by Xapham
Summary: With a mind beyond his years, Harry Potter enters a world of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is not an average student, though, and the powers that be are not content to let him hide his nose away in a book. Waylaid upon from all sides, Harry finds that this new world demands far more from him than he is used to and he has to determine how much he is willing to give.
1. Chapter 1

Forgive me all you physics majors out there I'm just rolling with an idea. I apologize if I make any mistakes.

Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

Three weeks into his first year of primary his teachers had noticed him getting restless in classes. He was above the level they were holding him at. He wanted to learn more and he was attempting to read ahead most of the time. Whenever he was called on in class for group reading he'd look up slowly, not knowing where to read from and not really wanting to stop reading the chapter he was on. He grasped the concepts faster and he didn't want to keep reviewing. He wanted to go ahead, onto something new and unknown.

It was rare, but not at all unexpected in little Harry's case, for a student to be pushed a grade forward so they remained academically challenged and once it had become clear that he was beyond the first year they allowed him to go forward.

The second year teacher looked at the name with some excitement. A new student popping in wasn't rare in the least, but from a lower grade? She hoped he was as impressive as her friends in the teacher's lounge claimed he was.

Students trickled into the room, took their seats and then she saw him. The small boy with dark hair standing near the door. His clothes were too large for his frame and his glasses barely sat on his nose properly but he stood up straight, his chin held up firmly. She could see the shadows under his eyes, almost hidden by his hair falling around his head wildly. There were some laughs at his mangy appearance from the students but she withheld judgment.

"Class, This is Harry Potter." She said, drawing their attention to her. "He's been bumped up a grade and he'll be joining us from now on, say hi." The class chorused their hello and Harry waved back before asking where he should sit.

* * *

He'd turned seven with various blows from his uncle to various parts of his body before being dropped unceremoniously onto the bed in his cupboard. His body hurt and shook as he tried to hug himself into a corner and wish the Dursleys away from him.

He never did anything to them. He cleaned, cooked, did well in school. He did the best in school! In the two years he'd been going he'd been brought up five grades. He was beyond what anyone expected of him. They didn't care for that, though, they looked down at him as they beat him into submission. They hurt him for doing better than Dudley every time grades went out. They hurt him whenever he was boosted a grade.

They hurt him if he was breathing too loudly from the cupboard when they were watching the telly.

Harry shut his eyes tightly as tears slid down his aching cheek. Why wasn't he allowed a loving family? What made him different than all the other kids in his classes? Their parents smiled as they picked them up from school. They asked how their day was. Petunia showed up to get them and if he happened to be slower than Dudley then he walked himself home. There was no love or happy feelings in the Dursley household.

Just shame. . . Pain. . . Fear. . . He cried himself to sleep as he rocked back and forth on his mattress asking whatever deity that would listen to take him from the hell he'd been forced into.

* * *

Physics.

The name reminded him of physical education which he did poorly in due to his size. He was only eight and all the opposing players in whatever game they were playing sixteen or seventeen. He was required to take the class for the duration of his stay in the secondary school. The Headmaster had said that he didn't expect Harry to remain in the school long and the PE classes were required for graduation.

It's only saving grace was that the beatings stopped. He had to change in the locker rooms and Vernon wouldn't be seen as the child abusing monster he was. The verbal abuse only grew though. Harry could deal with that though. He was an eight-year-old child that was about to graduate secondary school. He already had scholarships for University lined up.

Vernon had spoken up about it. Saying he would not allow Harry to go but he wasn't considered a genius for nothing. The scholarships more than paid for all the classes and books. The rest would fall into his pocket and he'd promised the money to Vernon. He didn't want it and if it bought him a pass to further his learning he was happy to give it away. The Dursleys never looked at Harry for what he was anyway and a few pounds for a blind eye was more than worth it.

What they refused to see was a genius of the highest caliber. Even now, when he was eight years ahead of where he should have been, he was still top of his class. He had no trouble remembering his studies, he could recall word for word what the text said. He comprehended theory that his year mates had trouble getting a grip on.

His favorite class was physics though. He already knew that he wanted to go into some field of theoretical physics. He wanted to be a PhD. A respected authority figure that people could turn to for advice. Despite some disagreement from his current peers when he was initially installed into their class they looked to him when they were unsure. His teachers praised his work and breathtaking despite the lack of effort he put into it.

It was easy. He simply looked at it and noticed something that made sense. The logical conclusion. He didn't fully understand how it was so hard for everyone else. Even his teacher missed some aspects that Harry corrected for him. Harry had the decency to feel bad for the man when the class laughed. The teacher smiled happily, waving off their laughter, and just told him that he wasn't as smart as Harry. He knew more than enough to teach and be happy but once Harry got to university the man knew that the boy would quickly bypass him.

Harry glowed under the praise.

Unfortunately, despite all his academic success, he had few friends. He didn't get to go out at home, his 'family' didn't let him go out and risk the neighbors seeing him so he didn't know any of the other children. In school, he progressed too fast for any of his acquaintances to become more than that. Anyone that approached him wasn't looking for friendship. They wanted his help with a project or homework. He was a means to an end to them, not a person.

Really though, normal people didn't progress as quickly as he did. The conversations he had with his classmates bored him. They started on something outside of school and he'd distance himself from it because education was his life. If they started on the school work he'd get excited and go on and on and eventually get over their head. Nobody could match him.

Nobody could keep him satisfied.

* * *

University was entirely different that any other schooling he'd done. It was also so much more enlightening. He'd tested out of so many classes that it had left the counselors gaping like fish. The classes he was placed into were far more challenging than any of his previous, for the first two weeks. By then he'd finished the textbook and could quote the text. He was able to give definitions and even original tricks to help him remember certain things. Everyone was, naturally, amazed at his academic prowess.

So amazed, in fact, that his teachers would clear parts of their schedule when he asked for private help. They found themselves having intense debates with the young boy that they were often on the losing side of.

His eleventh birthday was approaching quickly though, and he was in one of the campus labs working on a miniature field. He'd had an idea for a game. Just something that popped into his mind. It felt familiar but he couldn't place it so he just did what he did best and went to the lab.

"Harry!"

His heart lurched at the noise. He turned around immediately to see his professor standing in the door the older man smiled kindly at him before walking over to him. He set down a few notebooks and the course book that Harry himself had. "Not very surprised to see you here lad. What are we looking at then?" he asked as he looked at Harry's small field.

"Just a little game I'm trying to work on, Sir. I'm afraid it's not going to be finished for quite some time." Harry responded as he moved to the side so his professor could see it properly. "The idea is to have the stick move." he pointed to the small twig of metal floating over a large magnet. "After I figure out how to do that I had wanted to make a ball move around the field. It would only be capable of preset movements and the goal would be to catch the ball."

He picked up a miniature basket that fit between his fingers, "This would go on the tip of the stick to grab it." He shrugged as he moved to give the man a chance to examine it. He didn't have much more to do anyway so the man's appearance hadn't been ill-timed. A few assignments and then he'd have to go home. He tried not to spend too much time there. As little as possible most days. But he still had to sleep somewhere.

"This is marvelous Harry." The man said suddenly. He looked to the boy and saw the quiet pride. "I have some students who I'd imagine would be able to help with your movement problems. I'd be happy to introduce them if you'd be willing to allow others into this little project."

Harry's eyebrows rose at that. He'd planned on doing it all on his own. That would have taken a long time though. A team though.

"That sounds wonderful Sir."

He laughed quietly to himself as he copied the student's names and contact information onto a clean sheet of paper. "Here you are." He said, sliding the paper into Harry's waiting hands. "Now, my curiosity is satisfied, I'll toddle off. Wouldn't want to take up too much of your time, would we."

"You're no bother at all, Sir." Harry folded the note and pocketed it before moving to put away the field. "I'm about done here anyway. Heading up to the library to finish some homework."

"Of course. Can't let a mind like yours go stale. It would be such a terrible waste"

* * *

His birthday came quickly.

Harry found himself sitting alone on the edge of campus. He needed a quiet place to study before finals and with the rest of campus in such a fuss the library was much too crowded. He wasn't expecting the finals to be for too challenging but he was hoping for a surprise. He'd begun correcting his teachers again so, hopefully, they would pull something out of their obscure file that he would have to figure out on spot. He still had to go through his dissertation but he felt more than prepared for it.

He'd written it on the idea of controlling matter at the molecular level. He'd gone into a depth he hadn't originally planned on but one he'd started he'd become possessed with the ideas. Controlling the functions of atoms could allow for almost anything. You could turn air into water, turn water to lava. His professor had been awed by the idea but had informed him that the idea was ahead of its time. They had no technology capable of doing what he was proposing.

Harry simply smiled and told the man that he'd build them. He already had plans after he graduated. He would never have problems getting grants to gather a team to put his ideas into reality. It would be years of work. Many, many years of work but the results would change the natural way of life. He was still very young though and he had plenty of time.

Harry had found a real joy in physics. With a focus, he'd accelerated at an amazing rate. His progression in secondary school seemed almost dwarfed by his new found knowledge. He understood the most basic form of the universe and it brought life into perspective. His teachers had pushed him toward the study groups that focused on frontier science. 'lead the world to a new tomorrow, Harry' they'd said.

He certainly wanted to but his idea of a new tomorrow wasn't a better way to build bridges or cars. He liked fringe science. He liked to think he could put his mind to work and make things people could only imagine in their wildest daydreams. Things that would make the run of the mill scientist flounder about his blatant refusal to accept a concept. The book he was currently reading was on the electrical impulses in the brain. Biology wasn't a part of his major but he'd wanted to take it anyway, along with Chemistry and Electrical Engineering. He'd gotten permission from the Headmaster to run more classes than an average student and he'd proven himself capable of handling the workload.

Suddenly, as odd a sound as it was, Harry heard the sound of an owl. He looked up, scanning the sky for the out of place bird. His eyes widened when he saw the large brown bird flying directly toward him. He ducked his head down as it flew just over him, landing on the table in front of him. It stuck it's leg out toward him as soon as he looked up at it.

Clutched in its talons was a letter that looked to be from some time period in the last century. It was a heavily yellowed envelope with a thick wax seal an elegant H pressed into it. "Is this for me?" He asked tentatively, feeling slightly odd for asking the creature a question. It hooted and hopped forward, nudging the letter at him slightly, leaving him slightly shocked that the owl seemed to respond to his question.

Deciding that it was definitely for him, he tentatively reached out and took the letter from the bird. He eyed it as he pulled the seal up. It didn't make any sudden movements or attempt to fly away. It was just sitting, staring at him expectantly. Finally, as the owl seemed to be fine waiting, he looked down at the paper in his hands.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer., Chief. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on the first of September. We await your owl by no later than the thirty-first of July.

Yours sincerely,

 **Minerva McGonagall**

Deputy Headmistress

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black) 2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear 3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) 4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade One)_

by Miranda Goshawk  
 _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot  
 _Magical Theory_

by Adalbert Waffling

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_

by Emeric Switch

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

by Phyllida Spore

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_

by Arsenius Jigger

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

by Newt Scamander

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set glass or crystal vials 1 telescope 1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl or a cat, or a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,

 **Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus**

Harry could barely suppress the grin that was growing on his face as he re-read the letter again. He'd had jokes played on him before by the older students. It was never malicious but none of them had been very funny.

This though.

He pulled out his pen and ripped a clean sheet of paper out of one of his notebooks.

Dear Deputy Headmistress,

I would be delighted to attend Hogwarts. Though the news of such a school is quite a bit of a shock to me and I haven't the first clue as to where I would purchase the required course books or equipment. If it would not be inconvenient I request that a counselor writes me to give me the information that is not listed in your acceptance letter. The location of the school, where to buy supplies, etc.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

He folded the paper and looked to the bird. The prankster couldn't be far off campus so he simply handed the paper to the bird. As soon as it grabbed the paper it took off into the sky, flying almost too high for him to see before shooting off away from the campus. With his grin unfading he shrugged as he thought about the idea. Magic was just science that wasn't understood yet. Really, if he was able to complete his projects like he wanted them he'd be able to do what would appear to be magic.

Shaking his head, he pushed his glasses up his nose and looked back to the book.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was a well-lived woman. She'd lived through two wars, one of which she'd fought in, and she'd gone from a government official to teaching at the premier magical school in Europe. She'd had many experiences in her long life, but as she walked away from the Dursley household she could claim that she was quite confused.

She'd gone in response to a return letter from one Harry Potter. The letter that everyone had been waiting for with baited breath. He hadn't responded to his original letter, in fact, it had been returned unopened. Minerva had seen fear creep into Albus's old eyes at what could be construed as a rejection to his acceptance into the school. He'd told her to continue sending the letters to him as he feared the Dursleys were not even giving the boy an opportunity to choose.

She had, out of a sense of duty to the boy, finally altered the location and instead of sending it to his listed address requested the owl deliver it the to Harry himself. They finally got a response and the collective sigh of relief was audible from a majority of the teachers who were looking forward to teaching The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Vernon Dursley was a large man, who she found to be vulgar and offensive but he'd made his message clear. The 'freak' was at the University in downtown Surrey. She had many other questions and, as they were Harry's guardians she had planned on explaining that he would be gone for ten months of the year at Hogwarts. The man hadn't wanted to hear the beginning of it. He'd simply signed the letter and told him to take the boy muttering how he'd prefer that he not return.

She sighed as she began her walk, silently casting point me to find her way to the university.

* * *

Peace Out!


	2. Chapter 2

I will be releasing a chapter every Saturday. That will give me time to go over each chapter with a beta and make them as good as they can be.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

Harry sighed as he rubbed his eyes. It had been ten days since the owl had brought him the letter and he still got a good laugh out of it but his headache was keeping him from truly enjoying the humor. He was eating lunch quietly in the back corner trying to focus on anything really. He didn't rightfully mind what it was.

He was a Doctor.

He could write Dr. H.J. Potter as his signature now. That was a source of great pride for him but he felt an overwhelming sense of loss at the title. There was nobody to celebrate with. Nobody at home wanted him to come in and shout with joy. Nobody wanted to see him act his age. Even he didn't really ever feel the need to act eleven. He felt like an old man far too often to consider himself that young. Vernon had damaged his chest and leg to the point that he head difficulty lifting things properly without pain in his chest and he walked with a very nearly unnoticeable limp.

A cane was too obvious a giveaway that something was wrong with him for Vernon to allow and the payments every semester were the only thing keeping the man from being violent as it was.

He wanted to shout right now though. He wanted to have someone congratulate him, hug him and tell him how very proud they were of him. He was proud of himself but he could only imagine what it was like to feel another person's pride in him. To have someone that loved him and acknowledged the things he'd accomplished at such a young age. Someone to tell him how great it was.

The chair across the small table scratched against the ground drawing him from his thoughts. He looked up to see an older lady in a more professional business suit. He'd never seen her at the university before so he could only guess why she was here, she clearly wanted to talk to him though, if her stare was any sort of indicator.

"Mr. Potter, I presume." She led, raising her hand to his.

A quick flash of anger stung him as he heard the title. He was Dr. Potter. If he couldn't have someone he cared about acknowledging it then he would damn well have everyone else. He took her hand lightly, "Dr. Potter as of today, thank you, but yes, I'm him." The woman's eyes rose higher than he'd thought possible on her taut skin. So she didn't know about his degree, what did she want then. "You are?"

Schooling her expression quickly Minerva absorbed the information. "I am Minerva McGonagall," She led quietly, mindful of the muggles all around the hall "I am the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. We received your acceptance and I decided it would be best if you were given a personal visit."

Harry's eyes lit slightly at the statement. They were going through the hoops to get him. "Oh, excellent. I was wondering when I would receive a reply, I'd assumed I was simply too late." Harry closed his notebooks and coursebooks and sat up a little straighter. "You can do magic now, correct?"

She smiled at the light sarcasm in his voice. Did he not know? Seeing how Vernon Dursley had been, it was entirely possible. Unfortunately, her mind was still reeling over the idea that this boy was a doctor. He was only eleven! But the book he'd set on top of all the others said Advanced physics and theory. That wasn't something an eleven-year-old read, much less understood. She barely understood even the most basic concepts of the muggles field of studies. She knew that physics was a hard one though.

"I can, though I'm unable to do any in this setting." she glanced around, seeing nobody was particularly paying attention. "I could give you a brief demonstration somewhere more privet. Afterward, if your able, I had planned on showing you to a place called Diagon Alley. It is where you will be able to find all of the items on your school list."

Harry's smile held. He was curious to see what trick he would pull out of her hat. Maybe it would be a rabbit he mused. "Of course," he said, standing up. He quickly packed his things into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. "Lead the way."

She led him down the hallways, checking the classrooms as she did. Finally, she found one that was empty and, checking the hallway for people, drew her wand and swished it at the door handle. Harry heard the lock undo itself and froze. He'd been surprised at the detailed design of the wand. It was worn, obviously used often, but it was well made and obviously out of place for a silly college prank. The door unlocking after she waved it had him thinking quickly. Maybe a magnet at the edge of the stick. A preselected classroom set to be unlocked.

She walked into the room and he followed after not really thinking about it as he shut the door behind him. "Now, is there anything, in particular, you would like to see in?" She asked.

"Was that magic?" He asked shrewdly, motioning to the door.

She chuckled at his obvious confusion. "Yes, that was magic." she sat down in the air and, with a swish of her wand, a chair materialized behind her. It was just a simple chair that looked like all the others in the room but all things considered it was probably the best choice. "you'll find that unlocking doors is quite easy in comparison to many of the things that you can be capable of with proper education and to that end," she reached into her robe and pulled out a pamphlet, "I am here to say, Dr. Potter, that you are a wizard and have been accepted to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry numbly took the pamphlet from her and looked at it. It showed a massive castle set into a gorgeous landscape. "If you would take my hand," McGonagall continued, "I'll take us to a place where you'll be able to see first hand the society that you have been missing out on."

He looked up from the paper to her hand. "I..." he wasn't sure what he was going to say. He didn't have anything further to do at the school. He had to meet with the advisers to collect his robes for graduation but he didn't have to do that immediately.

This was just far too much, far too quickly. He may have been gifted with an extraordinary head but seeing a chair form from nothing had stalled it. He couldn't move past it. The door could be explained. There were possible answers that he could immediately think of to explain it away. The chair though, that was impossible. It violated everything he knew.

No.

Every single action had an acting force behind it. He knew that. That was absolute fact. Reality was built on rules that had to be obeyed regardless of if you wanted to or not. There was no way to create something from nothing. _Magic_ he thought as he reached forward to McGonagall's hand. _It follows the rules yet it still works._ He'd have to figure out how. A smile settled on his face as his next project settled in his mind. Minerva saw it but she couldn't fathom what he was thinking about.

* * *

Apparition, as the professor had named it when they arrived at the large alley, was one of the most uncomfortable forms of travel that Harry had ever experienced and he was not looking forward to the inevitable trip back to Surrey.

His complaints died, though, when he walked around the bend and saw what he would soon know to be Diagon Alley. It was breathtaking. People walked from shop to shop in full robes and some even wore pointed hats. He let McGonagall lead him forward as he watched the people. Every now and then people would look at him and their eyes would widen for the briefest second before they ran off, a smile plastered on their faces. He thought to ask the professor but he'd yet to snap away from the awe.

When they finally stopped moving he sat down at a small booth looked at the woman who'd led him there. "What do you think so far?" She asked as she waved over a server. Lunch was usually the best way to break muggle-born first years out of their shock of seeing the world that hid behind what they knew. She imagined it might be harder for the young man in front of her. If he really did have any sort of PhD then he was well versed in muggle society, the standings, the natural way of things. This was entirely different from what he knew to be the norm.

Usually, the Muggle-born students had parents with them as well but Harry wasn't technically a muggle-born. He was a special case.

"I think I would like to get my hands on one of those," Harry said, pointing at the wand that stuck of her robes ever so slightly. "And my coursebooks, and equipment, and there's so little time to prepare." His eyes widened a fraction. "How do I get there?" he asked suddenly.

Minerva stifled her laugh at his sudden exuberance. "You'll get there by train," she started, "On September first you'll go to Kings Cross station in London. Your train will be on platform 9 ¾, the Hogwarts Express." she brandished the ticket. "you'll receive these at the end of the day before you're returned home, I trust you won't lose them."

"Of course not." Harry replied, smiling at her tight grin.

"Good. Now lets order, shall we." Harry went down the menu quickly, finding many things he never thought he'd see. Finally, he decided on roasted chicken and water. They ate quickly and silently. Harry was used to eating alone so the elderly witch sitting across from him was a little uncomfortable. But the idea that she was, in fact, a witch was enough for him to get over the awkwardness.

"What's first then, professor?" Harry asked when they were finished.

"First is Gringotts. It is the bank that handles the gold of the entire magical population. I'm sorry that I have to be the one to tell you this, my boy, but your parents left you quite a sum of money. How much do you know about them?" she asked as she began walking.

Harry stepped up quickly, keeping her pace. "I've been told they were drunks that died in a car crash."

She didn't miss the touch of anger in the youth's voice. The observation was quickly set aside, however, as her own anger surfaced. "Why I never! James and Lilly Potter were two of the finest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing," she said, stopping, as she turned and dropped to Harry's level. "Your parent's death was a cause of great mourning. They were respectable, wonderful people. You come from a highly respected family. Knowing you've been left with those... muggles!" she forced the word out. "It is an outrage."

He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or scream. He'd always known that his parents most likely hadn't died the way his 'family' had told him. He knew nothing of them though so he had nothing to argue with. These people knew his family though. This world housed his history. "How did they die?" he asked quietly.

The professor stilled before standing and motioning for him to continue following. "That is not a question for the street. I'll explain everything after we are done shopping for your things."

The new knowledge set him off. He noticed the stiffness of the goblins in the bank. The goblins were startling but Minerva explained that they were the bankers and there was no better creature on earth to handle gold. He barely noticed the mountain of gold in his trust fund. He gathered as much as he could and ran back to the cart, pocketing the key. The shops were all interesting. Madam Malkin's was the first stop so he could get his robes and some, as Minerva called them, acceptable clothes for a wizard his age. He walked out with fitting slacks and a white shirt covered in a heavy robe.

Minerva levitated his school robes to Stark Luggage and Trunks. There was an assortment of charms placed on them, or so the clerk told him, and he could purchase more. Not wanting anything more than necessary he got the basic trunk. Two compartments, one for clothing and one for school work. Minerva dropped his school robes into the trunk and he grabbed the latch before moving on to Flourish and Blotts for his school books.

Despite his desire to move quickly he still slowed down to purchase his books. They had the first through seventh-year books in groups by order of year and, for simplicity's sake, he bought them all before moving on to books focused on the theory of magic itself. He felt as though he bought a copy of every single book in the section. Minerva watched with approving eyes as he packed them away in his trunk. Finally, she took his trunk and pointed toward Ollivander's. "You'll get your wand there. It takes a bit of time, more often than not, so I shall purchase the rest of your basic supplies while you buy your wand."

He didn't even respond as he turned to the shop. As soon as the door closed behind him he felt the atmosphere shift. There was no longer the hustle and bustle of the Alley. The store felt... sacred. There were rows and rows of long boxes of different lengths on shelves running all over the store. Some were lying on the floor half opened as if the last person holding it was in a rush while setting it down.

"Mr. Potter, I was wondering when you would show up here." He nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him. He moved away quickly and turned to see the man. He was old. Older than Harry thought that a man should be working but his presence didn't exude fragility. He was sturdy and sure of himself. "Now then. Which is your wand arm?"

"Right, I guess." Harry said, lifting his arm. Measuring tapes shot off the desk next to him and started taking his measurements. The measured his finger length, his forearm, forehead, and, finally, they stretched down and took his full arm. The man, Harry assumed it to be Mr. Ollivander, had already shot off to the shelves, not taking note of the measurements in any way that Harry could see.

"Now, Mr. Potter, what will you be today. Unicorn hair? No." a box flew out of the aisle and smacked against the wall before slowly lowering itself to the ground. "Aha!" The man ran out, almost tripping over a row of the wand cases. "Here you are. Twelve and a half inches, willow and dragon heartstring." Harry felt a warm feeling shoot through his arm. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was a deep feeling inside of him and he didn't think he would ever forget it. It would never go unnoticed again. "Well go on, wave it."

Harry swished it quickly and all the glassware on the desk suddenly blasted off. It made him jump and look toward the crash. The wand was plucked out of his hand in the moment of distraction. "Hey!" He yelled, looking back to Ollivander. "Don't I need that?" he asked quickly.

The man chuckled silently as he turned back to the shelves. "Not all wands are compatible with every wizard, Mr. Potter. That wand reacted to you poorly, as you could see it was quite volatile. You will know when your wand chooses you. It is an impossible feeling to misinterpret."

That made an odd sort of sense. That feeling was remarkable though, and now it felt so dull. He could still feel it, flowing under his skin. Looking back it had always been there. It was something that he'd associated with normality. It was never something that just showed up. It was magic flowing inside of him. He idly wondered if everyone felt it like he did. He didn't presume that he knew everything about magic. He didn't know anything really.

He knew it existed and that alone was still rocking his mind. He'd gone from fretting over what to do next to purchasing a wand to perform magic in the span of a couple hours. He'd learned more about his heritage than he'd ever known before in just those few hours. Those short, life-changing hours set him on a new course.

"Shall we try again." Ollivander said as he appeared with a new wand. He had to have tried more than twenty before the man started raking through the shelves, not caring where the boxes went. "Holly!" he yelled as he ran back to area Harry was sitting. "Phoenix feather core. This wand, in particular, is quite special. Let us try it, shall we."

The wand sat snugly into his palm but he knew immediately that it was wrong. After so many failures he knew the feeling wasn't right. It felt good in his hand and it reacted well with what he'd classified as his magic but it just wasn't the feeling he thought he was looking for. "What's special about it?" He asked as he returned it to the box.

A frown set on the man's face. "It was the core that made it special. The Phoenix that donated that feather had only ever donated one other and that was used in the wand that was used to give you the scar that the world knows you for." he shook his head, and turned away, not seeing Harry's questioning gaze. "I had thought, of all the others, this one would work."

"Wait for a second, now." Harry said, not wanting to be left in the dark as the man walked off, obviously not planning on explaining his statement any further. The man turned back at the outburst.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?"

He didn't quite know where to start on that one. He knew which scar the man was talking about. It was a brand that he was recognized for often. But by the world? "Who gave me this scar?" he started with. "and why does everyone know me?"

The man looked taken aback, much like McGonagall had earlier when he'd told her what he knew of his parents. "No, no." the man said quietly. "A question like that is not something that I should be answering for you, Mr. Potter. I'm just a wand maker. I don't have the knowledge to tell the story properly. I don't know the details to give you the answer you are looking for. I can give you your wand though and I would very much like to. Now tell me, so we may refocus on the task at hand, what do you think when you think about what you want from your magic."

He almost growled in frustration but conceded and thought about the answer to the man's question. McGonagall had said she'd talk to him. He'd be sure to get the answers to his questions. All of them if he had any say at all in it.

What did he want from magic though? That was easy enough. He'd been thinking about it not even a week ago when he hadn't even thought it within the realm of possibility. He wanted to use it to complete his work. To control atoms.

He almost stopped breathing at the thought. "Control." he answered simply, not desiring to focus on the thoughts any further. He let the man 'hmm' and dive back into his pile of wands as he sat down to think. Nothing worked without following the rules of nature. Nature, at its basic level, was the atom. It was a mess more complicated than that but at the _basic_ level, that was it.

He'd explained in his thesis that the ability to control atoms would allow for things that would be right out of a fantasy novel as a joke. An accurate joke that had broken the ice to his main ideas but still a joke.

He'd said that it would be like magic. Forcing atoms to take a shape instead of getting something that was already made. You could take a tree and carve it into a chair. Or you could force the atoms in the air to change their function and become the wood, and with enough control, you could shape it into the chair. He'd seen McGonagall do it not five hours before. The idea was outlandish, crazy, and he completely doubted it's authenticity because really, how could a person with no experience with magic figure it out in a couple hours.

He had as many theory books as he could buy. So many different views on how magic worked. So many different titles. They'd studied for years and years to come up with their theories. He couldn't just bypass all of that in his first afternoon. He was heralded as a genius to set a new bar for geniuses though.

"Shall we try one final wand. I fear I will have to craft another if this one fails."

Harry smiled at the distraction from his thoughts. He could become completely consumed in them if not pulled away. Gently, he grasped the dark wand that the man held out to him.

The air rushed out of his mouth as it made contact with this skin. It was as if his body was suddenly feeling after being dumb. Seeing light after being stuck underground all his life. Tasting after being starved. His body came to life with energy as his fingers clenched tightly against the wooden handle. He looked closely at the stick in his hand. It had a defined handle and finger grip leading up into a straight, smooth, shaft. There were small symbols on the shaft that Harry couldn't understand but he could feel the power in it.

"Black walnut." Ollivander stated. "Boggart mist core. A difficult core to capture and the runes on the wand hold it inside. Tough, good for conjuring, a very rare field for a wand to be adept in, I should say. I am quite shocked that this is the wand that you would have, Mr. Potter. That is one of the last of the older wand cores I have. Unicorn hair, Dragon heartstring, and Phoenix feathers produce a far stronger connection to most folk."

The message was revived fully. 'That wand is special in its own right just as you yourself are an oddity.' He shrugged it off. "How much do I owe you then."

* * *

Harry listened. He listened and listened and occasionally he would throw in a question or ask for a clarification. He didn't understand all the terminology but Minerva was patient with him and explained everything that confused him. He listened to her tale of a dark wizard that forced the magical world to its knees and how the magical government was all but powerless against him.

He listened as she told him about his parents and how they went to Hogwarts, some of her best students, before getting married and having him. How for some reason the dark wizard had targeted them and came at them with all the fury of a natural disaster. She told him how, as nothing but a one-year-old baby, he managed to destroy the magical worlds greatest threat with nothing but a scar to show for it. How the world celebrated his accomplishments without even knowing of his suffering.

He had lost his parents to a madman that wasn't even alive and his anger had no outlet.

They talked until the sun began to descend on the Alley and finally, with as little emotion as possible, he asked to be brought home. He was angry, and happy, and finally and most importantly confused. His parents apparently loved him dearly and that stung him badly simply because he never felt that love despite wanting it so very much. At the doorstep of his home, McGonagall warned him against using magic as there was a trace placed on his wand. Using magic before the age of seventeen outside of school was illegal and punishable by expulsion.

He walked up to his room, carrying his trunk with him as silently as possible. He'd been given the room when he started paying for his stay. It did make it more bearable but they still ignored him and insulted him whenever possible. He dropped onto his ratty bed and immediately pulled out the first of the many books he was going to be reading in half a month time frame he had before he began his first term at Hogwarts.

Studying was his best outlet for anything that set him on edge and he hadn't even begun to fully process everything he'd learned today. He wanted to try to wrap his mind around it, actually accept it but it was such a great leap from the normal day to day that he'd come to appreciate. So he studied.

Transfiguration for first years covered the bare-bones of the art he thought. He pulled out all his school books on physics, chemistry, anything that had to do with the building blocks of matter. He pulled out all his personal notes on the subject matter and he then pulled out the theory books on magic. He felt like a freshman all over again and it was exhilarating.

Magic had so many subfields though. So many fine manipulations to produce an intended result. He was well into the fifth yearbooks by the time September drew near. He never left his room other than to attend his graduation and meet with some professors about personal contact information. He wanted to write them about summer classes when they drew near but that was far off. Now he was focused on the theoretical limits and abilities of magic based on the concept that magic, transfiguration at the very least, worked by manipulation of the atom to produce an effect.

One of his books brought up wandless magic and it was with a true vigor that Harry attempted to call upon the feeling that welled under his skin. He set a plastic cup on his bed and stood in front of it. _Move_ he thought as he tried to pull at energy. He only had three days before he had to leave and those days were split between wandless magic and theory.

He grinned as he placed his leather bound journal into his trunk. It was almost filled with notes of how the different branches all worked to his theory. It was difficult. Charms confounded him because their applications were so varied and the mechanics we're so shrouded in darkness. Defense confused him because the spells had no physical substance, just a reaction. He wasn't even prepared to attempt to study herbology or care of magical creatures. He had no idea how magic could change, or even interact, with plants and animals. Arithmancy offered some clarity on the more arcane subjects but he'd yet to truly dive into that subject.

With a sigh, he closed his trunk and walked downstairs. He had to take the bus to London and he had to leave early.

* * *

And there's chapter two.

I'm not sure if I'm moving too fast or not. Also, I'm kinda nervous about the dialog. So tell me what you think and any ways I could improve and edit the chapters before I release them. Much appreciated.

Peace Out!


	3. Chapter 3

We're going to be going through the first couple years kind of quickly, stopping along the way for important events.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

Hermione Granger considered herself intelligent. Before Hogwarts had sent her the letter that had turned her life around she'd been in primary school, a grade ahead of her original class. It's been a mark of pride for her parents and her teachers had been delighted to have her move forward and excel. Her peers hadn't been as delighted with her and she wasn't unaccustomed to unflattering names.

Sticks and stones and all that though. They couldn't take away the fact that she was better than them though, and instead of engaging them in their childish games she took the mature role upon herself and ignored them. It certainly didn't stop them though.

Hogwarts would be better, she had told herself. Magic was real and she would have a chance to start over, to make friends and learn _magic_. She was fighting to stop herself from trembling as the castle came into view for the first time. The nervous energy that had built up on the ride to the station and walking through a solid wall had finally overflowed when another student, Neville Longbottom, had asked her to help him look for his toad.

She regretted saying yes.

Harry Potter, Harry don't-talk-to-me Potter. The boy projected an air of superiority that she couldn't break through. She'd asked if he'd seen Neville's frog and, with barely a word of acknowledgment, he left the cabin. Assuming he was ignoring her she simply went on her way. She found Neville sitting with the boy nearly twenty minutes later, holding his frog and sitting quietly in the cabin.

Hermione tried to stop the sting of hurt seeing them. She'd gone out of her way to help Neville when others were ignoring him and he hadn't even bothered to find her and tell her the job was done. She shook herself and returned to her cabin, sitting quietly and reading until they arrived.

The sorting ceremony was grander than she had expected. "Hermione Granger!" Professor McGonagall called out. She ignored the feeling of everyone's eyes focusing on her as she walked up to the stool and had the hat placed on her head.

Nothing happened for a moment before a voice appeared in her head, making her jump. _"Miss Granger. Such a keen mind you have. Calm yourself now, I am the sorting hat and you have nothing to fear. Hmm, Hufflepuff would be good for you, child, but so would Ravenclaw."_ the hat chuckled in her head.

" _Please put me in Gryffindor."_ She thought, ignoring the hat.

 _"Gryffindor, home of the brave, the den of the lion. Are you a lion child? Are you ready to step forward and take charge?"_

Swallowing a small lump in her throat she nodded, _"Yes."_

" _Why?"_ It was a simple question, but attempting to answer, Hermione found herself without one. _"It is brave, child, to reach for something new, but you would not find a home in Gryffindor, nor is Slytherin a place you would grow. No, it better be. . ._ Hufflepuff!"

She moved quietly to her new house's table, taking her seat among the other first years.

The entire hall was hushed when his name was called. Harry Potter walked up to the small stool and the hat was placed on his head. Every eye was on him as she turned to the girl across from her, "Who is he?"

The girl's eyes widened slightly, not expecting the question, as he looked to her. "That's Harry Potter." She whispered after a moment.

She cocked her head slightly, raising her eyebrow in question. "Is he famous?" she asked.

The girl let out a restrained laugh before pulling it back, looking at her apologetically. "My aunt says that he beat you-know-who when he was a baby." he said, "Nobody's seen him since."

Nodding, and returning her gaze to the boy that was still sitting on the stool she promised herself to try to figure out who he was. Harry Potter beat you-know-who as a child. Simple but she didn't know who you-know-who was.

The hat eventually called out Ravenclaw and the sorting continued.

Classes began, and despite her original desire to be in Gryffindor, she found herself happy in Hufflepuff. Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones, the girl she'd spoken to at the feast, had talked to her as they settled into their dorm that night. They'd been friends in the magical world for a few years, and as she was new to everything, she was welcome to join them when they hung out. She fell asleep smiling that night.

* * *

Hogwarts was home.

He'd lived in the Dursley household since before he could remember. His earliest memories were of thin shafts of light splitting the steps in his cupboard. They would always be there, trapped in his mind. The Dursley house was a cesspit of horrid memories and even worse experiences. Hogwarts was alive though, and it carried a sense of wonderment and joy he'd never really known.

It felt like a home.

Classes progressed as they always did. His learning curve wasn't restrained by Muggle subjects. Magic was another subject that branched into a hundred sub-subjects and he learned and categorized them as simply as he'd done before. Magic was different though. For every subject, every single one, there was a practical aspect that had to be learned alongside the theory and in the absence of proper theory, the practice could be incredibly dangerous.

He couldn't find himself caring though. He'd tried for a fourth of the summer to use his magic without a wand and it had been pointless, he could barely manage to make a cup shake, but with a wand in hand, he could bend reality. Some of the Gryffindor students laughed at him every now and then and the Slytherin students threw barbs at him from time to time, trying to get a rise out of him, but he was drunk on magic, and he had no desire to go sober. He'd studied his entire, albeit short, life because he wanted to do something with his life. He wanted to fight the feeling of nothingness he felt at the Dursleys.

He'd been searching for magic his entire life and he'd had no idea.

There were disappointments, of course. He'd had a thought after he'd settled in and begun reading his books. He'd thought that his mind was just a byproduct of magic and that he'd find real peers in the castle tucked away in the countryside. It had been wishful thinking, of course, but he'd still felt the blow.

"You've spaced out again." Su Li said, glancing up from her study guide. The winter hols were fast approaching and the end of term tests were coming with them so like any good Ravenclaw did, Harry packed up his books and found whatever quiet nook he could to study.

"Sorry." He said. His eyes glided down his own guide. "Chapter seven, page 189, the pronunciation for the levitation charm is what?" He asked easily, giving her the page number to help her find it. He knew the book front and back, it'd only be fair to give them some help.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Terry Boot answered quickly, a smirk playing over his lips. It died immediately, seeing Su's own.

"Hard O, Boot." He had the decency to blush at the correction. "We're good on Charms. As good as we'll get right now anyway." She leaned back and huffed out a breath, glaring at the mist her breath caused. She pulled her robe a little tighter to fight off the late October air. "We need to take a break. You wouldn't happen to know a heating charm, would you, Harry?"

"Hardly as good as you can get if you're asking for help," Terry said under his breath.

"You said something, Boot?"

"Nope." He pulled his own robes tighter. "She's got a bloody good point though, doesn't she. Tell us you've got some future lesson spells up there."

Harry chuckled at the back and forth before waving his wand over them, "Aer Calidus." He enunciated for them. The air around them heated, driving out the digging cold. "I like it when the Latin is easy, It's just 'Hot Air'. Nice and simple."

Terry huffed at that. "Simple if you know Latin. Mum tried to teach me a bit before school but it's just so boring."

Harry shrugged. Latin was just another language. It was a dead language in the muggle world but they still had language books on it, and it was anything but dead in Hogwarts. They had an entire section of the library dedicated to the different languages that had been lost for ages. That was for another time though.

He was eleven.

Graduating with a doctorate had been validating but it hadn't been fulfilling. He had no friends and, even if they couldn't be real peers, he wanted people. As detestable as Vernon and Petunia had been, they genuinely loved their son, and they seemed to genuinely love each other. He'd been on the outside so long, not understanding and chasing something he couldn't comprehend that he felt he had to. . . no. He needed to step back. He had to gain perspective.

He had to have friends.

"Do we want to explore the castle?" Su asked, no longer shaking in her uniform. "I heard that Bones' group was almost caught on the third floor last week, we can't let a couple Hufflepuff waifs upstage us."

"Nah. Let Bones get her group in trouble. Professor Sprout wouldn't do more than be disappointed in 'em. Flitwick would use us as dummies for the dueling club. Don't know 'bout you but I'm not interested about to jump onto the other end of their wands."

"You're so boring Boot. Come on Harry. A prefect was talking about the kitchen being off the dungeons a bit earlier today. I bet we could find it."

Harry smiled lightly, "I thought you wanted to go to the third floor?"

"Ha! Let the Hufflepuffs run around and get killed following Susan. I said we can't let them upstage us. They're looking into something stupid, clearly the reason they're in Hufflepuff and not Ravenclaw."

"Because the kitchen is a much smarter find," Harry said, the question left unasked.

"Of course it is. We wouldn't have to deal with the Gryffindor and Slytherin's being complete asses at meals and we could study in peace!" She threw her arms into the air grinning at her own brilliance.

"I'm sure you're the only person that's thought of that," Terry said. "Probably half the upper years doing that already."

Su deflated a little at that but shook her head. "Who cares, It's better than this." She shoved her class work away from her on the table. "We've gone over all of this again and again. It's _boring_ and _unnecessary_. Let's do something fun." She half whined.

"She's right," Harry said. He wanted to study more but Su was right. He knew everything he needed. He knew more than what he needed even, but it wasn't necessary right now. "Come on." He started packing up his stuff, "Let's go exploring."

* * *

"You know Hermione doesn't like you very much," Susan said suddenly, surprising Harry.

It was a Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw defense class, and normally Susan was entrenched in her clique but today she'd left them as class was about to being and put herself next to Harry.

"We've barely said a word to each other," Harry answered glancing up to see Professor Quirrell reading a book at his desk, paying little attention to the class. "I think I've talked to her once since I've been here." He continued, thinking about it for a moment.

Susan shrugged. "She's pretty forward about it. Doesn't want anything to do with you. Hannah was all up in arms about it, you being the Boy-Who-Lived and all, she was all for trying to bring you into the group. Hermione though, the girl was a rock. Looked like she wanted to hex Hannah right there for saying your name. The strangest thing too, she seemed curious about you when you were being sorted. Makes a girl wonder what you did to her."

Harry shook his head, trying to think of anything he might have said to her, or about her that she might have heard but he couldn't think of anything. She'd been brought up by Su but that was mostly in passing as Su talked in general. He'd never insulted her.

His eyes widened a fraction. Neville's remembrall. The boy was a gibbering mess of forgetfulness and clumsiness. "I think I may know what I've done." He said after a moment. " I may have an apology to make." He looked up Susan, "I'll talk to her when I get the chance. Probably after exams, before the hols."

"That's more than a month away."

"An incredibly busy month away." He countered. "Look. I feel bad, but it was a misunderstanding. I'll clear it up and apologize."

"Hannah –"

Professor Quirrell cleared his throat as he stood from his desk, drawing the classes attention. "I trust yo-yo-you've fi-finished reading a-a-about the knockback jinx." He said, fighting through the sentence. "It's the fi-first piece of combat app-app-applicable magic that's deemed safe enough fo-for first years to lear-learn. It's also a key element of d-d-defense against most types of creatures. All bu-but the five, and some four, X creatures are su-susceptible to being pushed away and bu-buying time to run for help is the best op-option at your current level." He waved his wand and his desk moved back, creating an open space in front of the class. Another flick and a dummy appeared, standing near the door, away from the desks. "Line up the-then, let's see how well you'll do."

Susan's eyes said that their talk wasn't finished but she got up and moved back to her group. He followed her as she did and his eyes landed on Hermione. She was a cute girl, objectively. Her skin had an exotic quality to it but her face was mostly obscured by her hair. She pushed it aside as her eyes met his and he saw her glare at him. It surprised him with its intensity. He knew he'd kinda snubbed her on the train, but searching for Neville's toad had been more taxing than he'd expected and his leg ached. Neville had agreed to let her know they'd found Trevor when he'd left the compartment and Harry had trusted the boy to do it.

His failure was the only possible thing that could have upset her. He hadn't said a single thing to or about her that might upset someone.

He fell into place behind Su as they waited to cast the knockback jinx. "What did miss early bloomer want with you?" she whispered. He suspected that Su's entire focus on Susan and her friends stemmed from what meager breast's Susan had begun to develop already. He ignored it though, focusing on her question.

"I've offended her friend." He answered. "Hermione." She raised an eyebrow.

"Which one is that?" She asked, glancing down at them.

"They are our classmates, you could at least learn their names." He said. Her eyebrow rose again, a slight menace seeming to rise with it. Harry just shook his head, giving up on the argument. "The black one, big hair."

"What did you do to her? She one of those offended types?"

"I don't think so. Kinda blew her off on the train. Completely accidental but still, I'd be annoyed if it happened to me."

"Please don't tell me you're gonna integrate into the Hufflepuff baps brigade. I'm not sure I could continue being seen around you."

He laughed quietly. "Nobody can have too many friends."

She covered her mouth, looked away from him, and let out a fake sob. " I knew him so well."

He shoved her lightly. "Po-Potter." Quirrell's voice cut through the room. Harry stepped up, still smiling as he looked to the professor. Quirrell nodded to him and he took aim at the dummy. He felt the magic inside him hum happily, pleased at being called again. Harry stroked it inside himself, building it up as he waved his wand and spoke the incantation. He felt it sing in his veins as the spell flew from his wand and crashed into the dummy.

His jaw fell as the dummy was torn apart, the straw exploding into a mess around the room as his spell cleaved through it, smashing into the wall behind it and cracking the stone. He fell back slightly, almost losing his balance before he felt Su steady him. His magic was still humming inside him, a calming companion as he stared, slack-jawed, at the destruction he'd brought upon the classroom. "What did you do?" Su hissed into his ear.

"M-Mr. Potter." Quirrell said, not looking away from the cracked wall. "Would th-this be the fi-first offensive spell you've cast?" He asked.

"Yes, Sir." He answered mechanically, silently cataloging all the spells he'd cast to date. All different types of charms and a few standard transfiguration spells.

Quirrell turned to the rest of the class. "It se-seems Mr. Potter is an exceptionally po-powerful yo-yo-young man." He looked back to Harry. "I'll speak with the headmaster to-tonight to see if we ca-can't find time to he-help you learn some control."

Harry nodded absentmindedly before snapping to attention. "Thank you, Professor." He said earnestly, still somewhat shocked at the level of destruction.

"Off to yo-your seat, let's cl-clean this up." the professor said before waving him off and straightening up the room. Harry watched him patch up the wall, righting the cracks and indentations he'd made before he summoned all the straw back to the dummy and reformed it. "Co-come. Let's se-see if anyone else ca-can replicate Mr. Po-Potter's display before cl-class ends."

Nobody else could, though, for all the passion he saw in her eye's, Hermione tried her hardest. She managed to break the dummy but it hadn't been quite as shocking as his own display.

His magic was still singing to him, just beneath his skin. He shut his eyes as Quirrell closed out the class. His wandless magic practice may have offered next to nothing in the way of practical results but it had brought him closer to the feeling it. It pooled in his palm when he held his wand, reacting to his will to cast. It seemed to have a mind of its own and it loved to be used. He loved using it so it hadn't really been a problem. It still wasn't a problem, really. But he hadn't expected its strength. Charms and Transfiguration were rather structured classes and it showed in the spells cast. Use magic, produce a set result.

This was the same, in theory, but in practice, the strength of his magic, the ease that it listened to him as he called it, seemed to amplify the effect. He wondered if all his spells were similarly altered in some way but he just hadn't noticed because none were quite as obvious and breaking a wall.

"Class dis-dismissed. Mr. Po-Potter, please meet me a-at the headmaster's of-office tonight after di-dinner."

"Of course." He said, packing his stuff away and falling next to Su as they marched down to lunch.

* * *

"Mr. Potter." Albus Dumbledore said merrily as he rose from his seat to greet the pair entering his office. "Would Harry be alright. I find the back and forth of misters and Missus to be terribly draining on a conversation."

"Of course, Headmaster."

"Excellent. Sit, please sit." he waved them down as he returned to his seat. "Now, Harry, Professor Quirrell told me quite an interesting tale this afternoon. He was quite impressed by your display."

Harry kept the smile off his face at the praise and nodded to the headmaster. Quirrell looked at him with a quiet intensity as he spoke up, "N-no need to be bashful Mr. Po-Potter. I me-meant what I-I said in class. You're and ex-exceptionally powerful young ma-man." He shifted his robes and adjusted himself in the seat. "The Headmaster has ag-ag-agreed that, if you desire it, you should have privet les-lessons to help gain a le-level of con-control over your magic."

"Very well said," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Professor Quirrell has generously offered his time to assist you after hours."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry responded diligently.

Dumbledore's smile fell somewhat and Harry felt as though he'd somehow misspoke. "If I might be so bold, Harry, many of the students in the school have spoken to me. I make an effort to talk to as many students as I can to keep myself up to date on the going ons around the castle. I know how to talk to young minds and I feel I've gained some insight into how they respond to certain authorities. I have to ask what's making you uncomfortable right now."

The room was quiet as Harry looked back and forth between the two professors. He sighed quietly before nodding. "I'm. . . a doctor. I have PhD, you know that, right Headmaster?" Dumbledore nodded. "I've delivered a thesis to a board who was staring at me and questioning me and demanding that I be good enough for them. When I first met Professor McGonagall I snapped at her about my doctorate. I wasn't sure what I really wanted to do next and I just wanted a little acknowledgment. Now I know what I want to do. I want to learn magic. You're offering me private lessons to help control my magic, and I'm grateful!" He said quickly, looking to Quirrell. "I'm really grateful but I don't feel out of control. Magic is. . . well, it's really easy. Too easy, almost. It just flows I know how much to use, I can feel it. My magic just gets overexcited is all."

Dumbledore's smile waned a little more as he spoke and he felt like he said the wrong thing again. "What do you mean, Harry, when you say that your magic gets over excited?"

He shrugged, squirming under Quirrell's increasingly intense look. "I'm not sure. It like's being used. When I cast a spell it just flows out. I can feel it's enthusiasm."

"You ca-can feel it's en-en-enthusiasm," Quirrell repeated.

"Yes Professor."

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, his fingers clasping in front of his mouth. He hummed to himself for a moment before he looked to professor Quirrell. "I think, Professor, that I would like to see to our young Harry's extracurricular studies for the time being If that's quite all right with you. I've heard of this type of connection to one's magic before and I feel it'd be better to take a more active approach."

"Not a pro-problem at all He-headmaster."

"Excellent. Now, Dr. Potter." Harry felt his cheeks heat at the statement but didn't attempt to correct it. "You were correct in assuming I know about your muggle studies. It's been a topic of much debate among the staff. If I may, I'd like to sit you down tomorrow before lunch, I'll speak to your professors, of course, and have an informal test. See where you stand and where we can move from there." His smile grew slowly behind his beard. "Are there any other concerns I can address while I have you here?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Headmaster. I just wanted to clarify."

* * *

"Come on Harry, spill. Where were you this morning? You don't just skip class. _You_ don't just skip class. Everyone's talking about it." Terry said. He'd been prodding since Harry had arrived at dinner. "Su was saying that's it's because of Halloween."

"Oi, don't bring me into your obsession with our resident mage," Su said quickly. She looked to Harry. "I only said today's a big day for and we shouldn't pester."

"Thanks, Su." He said as he pulled food to his plate and steadfastly ignoring the mage comment. "But it's nothing so dramatic. I've never really done anything special on Halloween. I didn't even really know anything about what happened until this year."

"How could you not know!" Terry squawked.

Lisa Turpin, a fellow Ravenclaw, slapped Terry on the arm. "You're being insensitive again." She said, her voice low.

"Sorry." He said, giving her a quick glance. "It's just, It's such a big day."

Harry hummed through a mouthful of food before swallowing. "I live with my muggle relatives. They didn't really know much about anything happening around the time and the stuff they did know terrified them. They don't really like magic that much and I didn't even know about it before my owl came with the acceptance letter."

"That sounds forced," Su whispered next to him.

He ignored her and continued on to Terry. "So Halloween's always just been Halloween to me. Candies and costumes and all that. I missed class because Professor Dumbledore wanted to do a bunch of tests this morning and afternoon. I'm getting lessons from him to help me deal with my magic. . ." He hesitated a moment, not wanting to say problem but being unable to conjure up a different word.

His magic was powerful. Dumbledore had hummed and nodded as he had Harry cast different spells at different objects. He'd cast several diagnostic charms on him as Harry went through different charms and transfigurations. They'd avoided any direct force spells like the knockback jinx to avoid damaging anything, but he'd been assured that they would cover that as well. They'd called it a day upon dinner and Harry was to return the next day to continue.

Before Harry could say anything else the large bang of the great hall door being forced open quieted the hall. Professor Quirrell hobbled into the room, his robes torn and battered and his arm hanging limply at his side, blood seeping through the bright colored fabric. "Troll!" He yelled out, startling those nearest him. " Troll in the dungeons!" He panted as he seemed to sway on his feet. "Thought you'd want to know." His eyes rolled back and he collapsed, his body hitting the brick with a nasty crunch.

Chaos erupted in the hall as student screamed at the sight of their professor collapsing and even more beginning to panic about the creature that had done it being loose in the castle. Harry scanned the room, noting his own elevated heart rate as he did. His eyes landed on Susan who looked, as opposed to the girls around her, livid. She was scanning the room as well and her eyes found his.

"Silence!" Dumbledore's voice boomed through the hall. All eyes flew to him as he stood from his seat. "All prefects, Gather the students and begin heading to your common rooms. Slytherin prefects, begin heading to fourth-floor dueling rooms. Your heads of house will meet you shortly as the rest of staff assess the danger. Please refrain from making excess noise as Trolls are excessively simple creatures and we do not want to draw its attention any more than we already may have."

The room burst into silent activity as the professors moved from their seats, the festivities of Halloween forgotten.

Su dragged him by the arm, his self-appointed guide to the rest of the group. He felt his other arm be pulled back. Su turned back quickly, seeing Susan holding his other arm. "I need your help." She breathed out her voice barely a whisper in the quiet hall.

Harry turned and met Su's eye. He could see her saying no, to move on and go to the common room. He'd seen the look on Susan's face though. She was angry, furious, but absolutely desperate. He shook his head and pushed her on. A small snarl appeared on her lips as she pushed back and joined him in front of Susan, her glare asking Susan to explain.

Susan motioned with her head and they began walking out of the hall with the rest of the students. She strayed off in a small alcove before they entered the great hall. "What do you want Bones," Su growled out.

"Nothing from you, Li." Susan bit back. She turned to Harry. "Hermione's wasn't at the feast," she said real anger seeping into her voice. "A Gryffindor ass made her cry and she's been hiding in the second-floor bathroom all day. I need to go get her and," She looked away from them, hiding her face in the dim light of the alcove, "I don't want to go alone."

"So you want our Mr. Mage here to risk his neck for your friend." Su surmised.

"She's my friend!" Susan hissed. "Of course I want to help her. I can't help that I'm scared." She looked down. "Please. I've got to go and. . . I would feel better if you'd come."

"Let's go." Harry said, touching Susan's shoulder, "Let's hurry too." He gave Su a pointed look as she began to say something.

"Fine. Damn it, Potter. Let's go find girl frizz."

Susan sighed, a visible weight falling off her shoulders. "Thank you, Come on." She grabbed Harry's hand and began leading them up the surprisingly empty stairwell. It didn't take more than five minutes to get to the girl's bathroom.

"Go on, Grab her and let's get out of here," Harry said, waving the girls into the bathroom. Susan and Su both stepped in, leaving him alone in the hall. He heard the girls talking behind the door but almost as soon as it was shut he felt the tremor on the floor. He looked down the hall and saw the massive foot step around the corner first. He froze upon seeing it, terror catching in his chest as it turned to look at it. He yelled at himself in three different languages in his head. Calling himself an idiot for leaving the safety of his house. The troll growled low in its throat before a loader noised bellowed out.

"Harry, what is –" Su stopped, seeing the troll at the end of the hall. She grabbed Harry and pulled him into the room. She pushed him against a sink as she turned to Susan and Hermione. "Troll." she breathed out. Not able to properly put a voice behind the word.

The color drained away from the other two girls faces, matching her own.

"We have to hide," Hermione said, grabbing the two girls arms and dragging them to the stalls. She looked back at Harry, still standing frozen where Su had pushed him. "Potter!" She stressed. "You need to move!" She released the girls and ran over, grabbing Harry's shoulders to drag him to the back of the room with them. He was like a rock. "You've got to be kidding me." She cried out.

The large bathroom door shook suddenly, beginning to buckle under a sudden force.

Again.

Again.

The door burst inward as a massive club smashed through it and crashed into the floor. The troll growled softly as it shuffled through the too small door, fitting its massive body into the room. Hermione stared up at it, her own body suddenly locked and unresponsive to her mind as she silently screamed for it to run away.

The trolls head tilted to the left slowly, taking in the four children staring at it. Seeming to come to a decision it began lifting its club a slow motion that made horrible butterflies constrict around Hermione's heart as she managed to shut her eyes, a final defense to protect her from inevitable death.

"Shifra!" Harry's voice almost made her heart burst as she felt the boy suddenly slide out of her grip. The troll groaned and she heard a crash. Her body still failed to respond and refused to let her look to see what was happening. "Ramah!" Harry yelled again. She felt liquid splash against her face as the troll screamed. "Qas!" There was a flapping noise and the troll quieted. The entire room was silent besides the quiet puff of Harry's labored breathing. The butterflies slowly released her heart as it continued to beat, very much alive, and she managed to open her eyes The sight made bile rise in her throat.

She collapsed feeling one of the other girls fall next to her and lean on her for support. Her stomach clenched violently and vomit spilled from her mouth.

Harry stood in front of the troll, his hair and face covered in the sticky ooze that was the troll's blood. Its jaw was precariously caught on his robe, completely unattached from the troll. The Trolls body was cut almost in half at the stomach and had a single hole burrowed deeply into its massive forehead. Harry stood, staring at the girls, as green bled back into his iris's, erasing the red that had filled them. As suddenly as it'd begun it ended as his fully green eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.

* * *

As always, any constructive criticism is welcome and thoroughly appreciated. Let me know your opinion.

Peace Out!


	4. Chapter 4

I imagine the troll incident to be much like a school shooter incident. Somebody walked into somewhere you felt safe and you felt, for certain, that you were going to die. That feeling doesn't go away quickly and that fear stays deep inside you even longer.

Also, I have beta reader that's schedual matches mine and they have been amazing, thank you! So I'm going back to my more frequent posting. It will likely be two chapters a week as we go through them and make them somewhat presentable for you, my lovely readers.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

Albus Dumbledore felt his age. At one hundred and eleven years old, he'd dealt with more than his fair share of difficulties.

Harry Potter would put him in an early grave. He scanned the report that Poppy had sent him slowly, his gaze lingering on the notes marking the oldest of injuries that had befallen the boy. The troll hadn't hurt him. The troll had done more damage to the school than it had to the students inside it and he owed that to the young Mr. Potter. His gratefulness only added more weight to the growing burden he felt, though.

Harry Potter was an abused child. Beaten and willfully quiet about the abuse. Poppy had ranted at him when she'd brought him the report, as she oft did when a student was lackadaisical with their own health. If he'd come to her at the beginning of the year she could have set him straight right away. Muggles and their stupidity, she'd said.

Dumbledore saw the truth of the situation though. Harry wouldn't turn himself over to medical care that would bring up questions. Important, invasive, questions that he'd rather put far into his past and bury behind a wall he'd never want to knock down. He set the report down and brought his fingers up to his temples, massaging them lightly to fight a growing headache. Harry couldn't return to privet drive, but he couldn't stay in the castle, kept away from all human contact every summer.

"What should I do Fawkes?" He asked. The Phoenix sang out, the noise easing the pain in his head nearly instantly. "Thank you, old friend." He swiveled in his chair, looking at the small trinkets displayed out on the table behind his desk. The blood ward on the Dursley household was strong but he couldn't justify sending a child back to that kind of home. Minerva had been right, all those years ago, and he'd ignored her warning. "Would you run a letter for me?" He asked turning back his friend. Fawkes cawed out and hopped off the gold perch, landing on his desk. Dumbledore summoned an inkwell and began writing.

Fawke's burst into flame and vanished when he'd finished, carrying his message.

He would right this mistake but knowing that he would do right by the boy didn't ease his worry. Harry's body wasn't the only problem. The young Hermione Granger was an observant girl, and her comments about Harry's eyes had him on edge. He'd checked the boy for any kind of dark magic when he was young and had found nothing. His scar was heavily cursed but the death magic that clung to it was no danger to the boy, simply a powerful reminder of what he'd survived. He'd scanned him again just that morning. His curiosity about the odd state of the boys magic had led him to think of several nefarious problems.

Nothing had come of it though. The boy hadn't had the slightest shade of dark magic on him and his aura wasn't quite pure enough to have been through any sort of purification ritual. No, he was just a normal boy by all marks. An extremely powerful and intelligent wizard, no doubt, but a normal boy nevertheless.

"Albus?" He was startled from his thoughts as Minerva stepped into the room with Severus and Quirinus behind her.

"Ah, come in, come in." He flicked his wand and another chair joined the two on the other side of his desk. Minerva and Quirinus sat, Severus took his place behind the chair. "I trust the student body is calmed." He said as he pushed his jar of sweets forward, "Bean?" he offered to the less than sturdy looking Quirrell. Poppy had gotten to his arm it seemed, but he didn't look fully upright.

"As calmed as they will get," Severus said. "My prefects are moving the house back to the dungeon. We're going to hear about this extensively from Lucius, at the very least."

Albus nodded, hiding his grimace. "I will handle all parental inquiries." He looked to Minerva, "Where are Pomona and Filius?"

"Dealing with three very distraught girls," Minerva said. "I'd be surprised if they arrived tonight. Granger, Li, and Bones are in varying degrees of shock, not that you can blame the poor girls. Filius is particularly concerned about Mr. Potter." She gave him a pointed look. "What happened tonight Albus?"

The old man sighed deeply as he looked at his staff, "The troll entered the castle through the dungeon entrance. Bathsheda and Septima are currently checking the wards to see if they can divine how it managed to simply walk in." He reached up and pulled his half moon glasses off his face, feeling his headache returning. "The noise of the students heading upstairs must have drawn it from the dungeon and to the second floor where it ran into our young troupe. Ms. Li has explained that they were there looking for Ms. Granger, who hadn't received the warning."

"And our youngest celebrity simply trotted off to the rescue," Snape said his eyes narrowed slightly. "Why did they not inform one of us? Or a prefect, even."

"Susan Bones has accepted the blame for the entire plot," Albus answered. "Harry's display in your class," He said, looking to Quirinus, "Has garnered more than a little respect from his classmates, and Ms. Bones wanted him to accompany her. Ms. Li simply followed her friend. Ms. Bones has said she didn't want to bother the prefects because and I do quote, Professor Quirrell said it was in the dungeon, I thought we'd have time to get her and get back to the common room without bothering anyone, end quote."

Severus sneered, "The girl is an idiot. She's lucky that she's not paste, how did four first years manage to stop a fully grown mountain troll?"

"Ahh, and there we have the mystery of the evening. Mr. Potter stopped it alone, or so I'm told."

"A fi-first year can't ki-ki-kill a mo-mo-mountain troll," Quirinus said, his stutter appearing to be more prevalent in the aftermath of his injury.

"As I said, a mystery." He turned a paper around on the desk so the professors could read it. "Ms. Granger informed us that he used spells with these incantations but, alas, they are foreign to me and I haven't the slightest idea where Mr. Potter might have learned them."

Severus's eyes widened at the words. "The boy couldn't have possibly known these." He reached forward snatching the paper up and reading them again. "These are Arabic combat spells. They're not taught. . . They're barely even written about."

"And where did you learn them?" Minerva asked, her voice a pitch higher.

"I learned them from seeing them cast." He grumbled, his eyes locking onto the Headmasters.

Minerva scoffed and looked back to Dumbledore. "He saved those girls tonight, regardless of they're less than ideal planning, and that makes him a hero. We squashed any rumors that started up after some of the students saw the girls."

"So naturally," Dumbledore said, a smile playing on his lips for the first time in hours, "the entire student body knows. I'll make an announcement tomorrow night during dinner. Hopefully, Mr. Potter is awake by then because we know as much as possible until he does." He reached out and Severus returned the list of spells to him. "Quirinus, it's been a busy night for you. I thank you for your diligence and fortitude, still being up, but why don't you turn in. You too, Minerva. I need to talk to Severus and it wouldn't do to keep you two up any later. We'll cover the finer details tomorrow when we have our whole staff and, hopefully, a clearer picture."

"Of co-co-course Headmaster," Quirinus said, rising from his seat and offering his good arm to Minerva. She took it and bid good night to the pair that remained before following her colleague down the stairwell.

Albus slowly looked away from the door, his gaze falling on his potions professor. "Who was it?" He asked quietly.

"Voldemort," Severus answered.

Dumbledore hummed, having feared that answer. "Ms. Granger admits that Harry's eyes turned red while he was dealing with the troll. I had hoped that it could be explained as the effect of dark magic being used but. . ."

"No, they're not dark. Just obscure." Severus said as disturbed look crossed his face. "Possession then."

Albus shook his head. "No, I cast several diagnostic charms on him just this morning and Poppy's run a full scan on since the incident. A disturbing read, no doubt, but nary a sign of any dark magic or byproduct of it. No, I fear a far more complex explanation to this problem." Albus met Severus's gaze and magic crossed between them. Imaginary walls of magic and will blocked the probe as Albus nodded. "I think something terrible happened to Mr. Potter that night, years ago, and I think the effects are being felt, even now."

* * *

Susan Bones sat in the common room as groups of people came down from their beds, chatted for a while, and moved on to find breakfast before morning classes. Her shoulders shook slightly every time she heard a new set of footsteps from the stairs behind her but she didn't move to a new seat. Her Aunt faced all kinds of evil all the time, it wouldn't do for her to cower from a noise in the stairwell.

She'd barely slept an hour, though, and the bags hanging under her eyes made that obvious to the people around her. Most of them left her alone, respecting her privacy as most Hufflepuffs were used to doing in these situations. She couldn't really say she was enjoying the solitude though.

Somebody fell onto the couch next to her and she glanced over to see Hermione, looking just as tired as she did. Seeing the girls state Susan wasn't able to keep it in any longer and tears began to spill over her eyes.

Hermione didn't cry but she reached out and hugged Susan.

Susan was the first girl she'd talked to in the castle and her first real friend in her entire life. Hermione sniffed back the tears that threatened to fall as she held the crying girl and rocked back and forth on the couch. It'd been her fault that Susan had been up there. Nobody had said anything to her, of course, but if she hadn't been hiding in the bathroom then nobody would have been in danger. Hermione wouldn't' cry, she wouldn't weep, and she'd hold Susan until she felt she could make it to breakfast. If she wasn't up for it than she'd stay here until lunch, or dinner, or whenever the girl said she was done.

"I'm here," she whispered, copying the tone her mother had used whenever she'd had a bad day at school. "It's okay, everything's alright. I'm here."

Hannah came down and met Hermione's eyes "Is she okay." she mouthed out. Hermione shook her head in the negative. "You?" Hermione shook her head again and motioned for her other friend to come over. Hermione felt Hannah begin rubbing small circles on her back and smiled as her chin wrinkled a little and she fought back a new wave of tears.

"We'll be fine." She said after a moment, just over Susan's quiet whine.

* * *

Su sat alone at the Ravenclaw Table. She'd barked at Terry when he'd tried to question her about the previous night and he'd run off to sit with Goldstein and Corner, leaving her alone to her thoughts. She was a strong girl. She was alone in a foreign country because her British father had been insistent that she go to Hogwarts. All her friends were still in China and she desperately missed them. Harry was an okay substitute but he just wasn't there all the time. He tried, she could see him trying, but it wasn't what she was used to. She'd sent a letter to her family after she'd woken up, seeking any form of comfort but it wouldn't reach them for a week and a half and it would take that long again for a reply to reach her.

Her leg was shaking viciously under the table and she couldn't stop it. It was the only release for any of her nervous energy and her mood jumped from furious to lip-quivering scared over and over. Madam Pomfrey had told them to come to her and the other girls to come to her if she needed anything but she didn't want to take a potion to block out her feelings.

She looked up and saw the Hufflepuff first years enter. Hermione and Susan were walking near the back of the group with their other friend next to them. They were locked together in a half hug as they walked and stayed that close as they sat down. Jealousy stung at her seeing them and before she could stop herself she'd stood up. Her steps were mechanical as she walked to them.

"Susan. Hermione." She said, stopping behind them.

Hermione turned back, a look of surprise on her face at Su's appearance, while Susan just continued to stare ahead at the wall. She didn't let go of Susan as she turned, but she was paying attention at least. Su took a deep breath and sat down next to the girl. Her jaw twitched when she saw the surprise fade into a look of knowing. "I. . ." Su cursed in her head as she failed to form the words.

"Come here," Hermione said. Lifting her free arm into a half hug as Su fell forward into the embrace.

"Gods above," Su said, tears finally stinging her eyes. "I need a hug."

* * *

His magic cooed in his mind, coaxing him awake. He didn't hurt, which set him on edge instantly. He always woke with an ache or pain.

Memories surged to the forefront of his mind.

Troll. A massive monstrosity of what could be considered natural had risen its club to kill him. It'd failed though. He felt his magic surge up, seeming to grab his limbs and moved his body for him. Spells he didn't know flew from his lips as he killed the troll, his magic singing wildly in his ears as he did. The song faded quickly though, and he was left utterly spent.

How long had he slept for? He sat up and took stock of himself. He was in the hospital wing and he didn't hurt at all. "Hello." He called quietly, noting the low light pushing through the large windows signaling dawn.

An older woman appeared out of a small room at the end of the aisle of beds. "Good morning, Mr. Potter. My name is Madam Pomfrey, healer of Hogwarts." She said when she'd shuffled over to him. Her wand appeared in her hand as she began to chant over him. "How are we feeling this morning?" she asked in between spells.

Harry rolled his shoulders "I feel great, better than." He admitted.

"You certainly should," she said, putting her wand away. "You had old injuries that I fixed up. Muggle doctors no doubt." She shook her head. "You should have come to me, Mr. Potter. I know you're new to all of this but magic is, truly, an amazing thing. I could have helped you far earlier in the year." He shrugged in response. "To be young and stupid again." She said with a good natured smile. "There are no lingering problems, the mental trauma from last night not withstanding. My office is always open if you need to talk Mr. Potter, and I've no doubt Professor Flitwick would say the same. The Headmaster asked that you remain her until he's had a chance to stop by and talk to you so unless you need anything, I'll call an elf for food."

"No, no. I'm fine, thank you."

"Good, now rest up, deary. If you're still feeling fine after the Headmaster comes by then I see no reason to keep you any longer. If you'll excuse me." She shuffled back to the room she'd come from leaving Harry to stretch his leg in amazement.

He bent it back and forth, trying its rotation and then he took a deep breath, puffing his chest out as large as he could. His breath burst out of his lungs and Harry couldn't stop the laugh the bubbled up. It started low and built up quickly leaving him covering his face with his pillow to lower the noise. When he was well and truly out of breath from his excitement he just dropped back, hugging the pillow to his chest as he smiled at the arching columns that climbed the walls and met at the top of the room.

A small creature appeared next to his bed with a plate of food and he assumed it was the elf that Madam Pomfrey had called. "Priddy brings Harry Potter, sirs, breakfast," it said offering him the tray.

"Thank you," Harry said, grabbing the tray and watching the elf disappear with the same pop it'd arrived with. He was too overwhelmed with questions to properly categorize the little elf in his list of projects so he simply filed its existence away and began eating. He heard the excitement from outside the hospital wing as students began moving in the halls, heading to and from the great hall.

It wasn't long before the Headmaster, in his purple and green robes, made his way into the room. He flicked his wand as he arrived next to Harry's bed and a large, comfortable looking, chair appeared, which he allowed himself to drop into. He smiled as he sat, letting Harry clean the food from his mouth and move the tray to the nightstand.

"Mr. Potter, Harry," he started, finally. "You had quite the night, I'm told."

Harry nodded quietly and waited for the Headmaster to continue. The old man simply sat, his smile never wavering while he waited. "Yes, Sir." Harry finally said. "It was. . . certainly a new experience. I'm not sure I'm in a rush to repeat it though." He added with a small chuckle.

Dumbledore laughed lightly. "Humor is a good way to deal with troubling experiences. Your friends may need that ability in the coming days as I fear that they're not taking this whole ordeal quite as well as you appear to be."

"Are they okay," Harry asked, urgency entering his voice. He neglected to think about the girls, his amazement at Madam Pomfrey's work blocking the realization.

Dumbledore nodded. "They're with each other at breakfast, at the moment. They were in a state of shock last night and it seems the reality of the situation has finally set in for them. They are understandably troubled by it. They'll need your maturity in the coming days."

"I'm not sure what I'll be able to do for them. I. . . I froze last night." Harry said. "I was terrified, just like them."

"Ahh, I think you underestimate yourself, Harry. Courage isn't about being scared. You acted, despite being scared, and in doing so you saved your friends. Your presence will bring them more comfort than I think you can quite understand. Before we fully delve into your young friend states', however, I'd like to ask you how you're feeling. I know Madam Pomfrey has likely already asked but I'd like to ask again. Are you okay, my boy?"

"Like I told Madam Pomfrey, I feel fine," Harry said, reiterating quickly.

"You'll forgive me if I feel the need to ask, a final time If that is the complete truth of the matter."

Harry went to answer again but paused before he could get anything out. "I was terrified," he said in a small voice. "I couldn't move, I couldn't think. I know how to deal with trolls. They're third-year creatures in defense and an owl creature in care. They're stupid and easy to distract. They're only four X because they're strong and hard to affect with spells. I know that. _I know that_." he stressed, "But I couldn't think. I was completely frozen and I almost died. Susan, Su, and Hermione almost died because I was so scared I couldn't move!"

He sucked in a shuddered breath and went to continue when a weathered hand fell onto his shoulder. He looked up to see that Dumbledore had risen to his side. "I know, Harry, that you're exceptionally bright. I know that you've spent very little time around those your own age. You've been working with people twice your age for so long I can't help but feel that you've forgotten that you, too, are eleven years old." Dumbledore spoke slowly. "It was not your responsibility to protect your friends. It was a grave oversite on us, the staff, that allowed such a terrible danger to be placed before you in the first place."

He moved back, returning to his conjured chair. "My words can only so much, my boy, but I promise you that I'll do more than speak. I've personally written your friends parents on the matter and I have our heads of house tightening the ward schemes around the castle. I would write home to the good Dursleys but I admit that I worry about the usefulness of such of a decision." seeing the look of shock pass over Harry's face, he nodded, "I thought as much."

"They're not the best guardians," Harry said, the temper he'd worked up falling as quickly as it rose.

"I had gathered. Before we move on, however." He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. "50 points to Ravenclaw, for extraordinary bravery in the face of terrible danger. I've personally put your name up for a special service to the school award. You may have been in an unfortunate situation, Harry, but you did save those girls lives and I will see you commended for it."

"I. . . Thank you, sir."

"No, Harry. Thank you. I very much thank you. Onto my other reasons for being here, however, and my previous point provides a rather fortuitous segue. As the Headmaster of this institution, I have certain responsibilities to the Ministry and the student body while they're within my care. I ask this desiring nothing but your welfare, Harry. Are you being abused by the either Vernon or Petunia Dursley?"

Harry suddenly looked so small that Dumbledore cursed silently. The boy preened under his praise and he had deflated nearly instantly. "Why do ask?"

"Madam Pomfrey is an extraordinary Healer but, despite a growing number of muggle-born students, she still sees all pre-existing injuries as a fault of Muggle doctor butchery. I have had more personal experience with the matter, however, and I've seen your medical report. You've played no sports and been involved in few accidents over the years. Please be honest with me, my boy. I tell you now if they have harmed you then you will never have to set foot in their house again."

Hope. A hope he had dared to have as a small child clawed its way up from the depths of his mind. A hope he had buried deeply, not seeing it as a reality and he met the Headmaster's eye. "Where would I go?" he asked.

"I have many friends, Harry, who would be happy to take you in and even if they could not, you are the boy-who-lived. There would be no shortage of people who would desire to be your guardian."

He shook his head. "No. I don't want to go on someone's shelf."

"No, I suspect not. You've moved the subject forward, though, and avoided my question."

His lip quivered as he thought about it. A thousand possibilities passing through his mind as he did. Even going to a home that only wanted him for his name, though, sounded a far cry better than being stuck in that house again. "Yes." He said, his voice stronger than he felt.

Albus frowned deeply. "I find myself apologizing again then. I am deeply sorry for the trials you've been through." He stood, vanishing his chair as he did. "My door is always open, Harry, as I've told you. I have much to do, it seems and the soon I finish the sooner I feel my heart will rest. I have other questions for you, but they can wait until later. I will see you Monday morning, Harry."

"Thank you, Sir."

"No," Dumbledore said, stopping before he could truly begin moving. "You do not need to thank me for this. This is right, and I do it happily. See your friends today Harry. I suspect they need you as much as you need them."

* * *

He'd dressed and left the hospital wing shortly after the headmaster had left, having no desire to hang around and wait for some undetermined signal. Too much was happening too quickly and he wasn't sure what to do. Dumbledore had been right though. Su was his friend and she was likely in a bad place. He was used to dealing with his problems. Fear wasn't a stranger and despite its intensity, he'd stored the experience and moved on. Su, by all accounts, wasn't like him though. Her mind wasn't like his and he prayed her family wasn't like his. She'd been through a horrible experience and she'd need friends.

Su didn't exactly have a soft edge though, and it was only his social ineptitude that had lead to her being his friend. She was rough but he didn't know any better. He'd learned quickly by interacting with Terry, Michael, and Anthony but Su was already there and he found he liked the bite her personality had.

Terry didn't like it so much and he complained often, asking why Harry spent time with her.

He walked past the great hall, sparing it a quick glance to see if she was there, and continued on when he saw no one. He checked the Library next, expecting at least Hermione to be there given how often he'd seen her sorting through large piles of books.

Again he came up empty. He didn't want to ask and offer someone the chance to question him. He had no doubt people knew something happened. He'd seen gossip spread across a campus like a wildfire and he didn't want to be a part of it at the moment.

He stopped and looked around. His magic jumped up and his wand appeared in his hand. His hand snapped forward and he palmed his wand as it began to spin. It stopped, pointing toward the moving stairs and up. He followed it, feeling his magic purr as he complied.

He hadn't brought it up to the Headmaster, and he supposed he should, but his magic was beginning to worry him desperately. He'd read as many books describing magic as he could get his hands on and not one had described it as a conscious entity like his seemed to be. It was reactive and aware of what was happening. It actively worked to help him and he couldn't find anything that sounded similar to that.

He'd thought, if something was wrong with it, then the Headmaster would have brought it up during their testing but so far he hadn't shared any of his findings. Maybe it was time to share more.

Still, he followed the wand up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway. He put it away before he arrived, figuring out where it was taking him as soon as he reached the floor. He knocked on the door, hesitant to enter the female washroom.

"Oh, Harry." It was Hermione that answered. She stepped out, giving him the barest sight of Su and Susan through the opened door. They seemed to be standing in the room, looking at the wall where the Troll had been the previous night.

"Are you guys all right?" He asked after a moment of awkward silence. Hermione had been mad at him, he supposed, and he wasn't sure how the previous night had changed that but he was determined to make sure they were okay before he worried about it. Stupid grudges were exactly that.

"They're managing. Su needed somebody to hug. Hannah understood." Hermione said with a small shrug, not quite meeting his eyes.

"I asked about all of you." He said, crouching a bit to look at her.

"I. . . What about you?" She said, standing up straighter. "How are you? You were there too."

He smiled at her "I'm rough." He answered honestly. "I was terrified and I froze, and we all almost died. It sends a chill down my spine just thinking about and I want to forget but I can't." He shifted to stand next to her, leaning against the bathroom door. "How are you?" He asked again.

He saw her chin wrinkle for a moment and her neck tense and he knew she was suppressing it. "I didn't mean to blow you off on the train. I'd hurt myself before the ride and my leg was killing me. I got a little excited about helping you guys and I just took off. We found the toad and Neville said he'd let you know before he went back to his cabin so that I could just sit down. I can only imagine he didn't do that." He looked at her, seeing her actually looking back now. "I was gonna bring it up sometime soon, apologize and all that. You seem like you need to talk right now and I'm trying to be here but I'm bad at this. I'm bad with social markers and I can only go from my experience with Su's upfront personality. I honestly don't have any other measuring stick."

Hermione snorted a little. "I'm surprised you're stringing words together then," she said.

Harry laughed, surprised by the joke. His laugh spurred her on and Hermione laughed too. They stood the hallway laughing, tears forming in their eyes as they did. Harry tried to breathe but found it difficult as the laughter kept.

He sucked in air, calming himself as much as he could. "Laughing is nice." He said in between breaths. Hermione nodded, but he could see the tears still in her eyes. They weren't shining with the amusement that had been in them a moment before, it was something new now. He moved to her slowly, giving her time to move as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. He'd seen parents comfort their children like this, but he'd never experienced it.

It was nice, he decided, as Hermione wrapped her arms around him in return and buried her head into his shoulder. "Su and Susan needed someone to be stronger than them." She said. Her voice was muffled in his robes but he could hear her clear enough. "The needed to cry and see that everything was okay."

"Dumbledore would probably say that you made a very mature decision to be there for them like that," Harry said. "I think that you're taking too much onto yourself. You have to look out for yourself too."

"Susan's my friend. I had to be there for me, she's. . ." She paused as she shook. "She's my friend. She's my first friend. I have to be there for her."

Harry nodded, understanding. "And Su?" He asked.

"She needed it too. She looked on the edge of breaking down when she came over to us."

"And you didn't say anything, you just accepted that you were going to be there for them?"

"I. . . They needed someone." She said.

What do you need, Hermione?" He asked.

She looked up at him, looking smaller than she was. "I don't know. My mom and dad have always been here for this part, and they're not here now and I don't know."

He pulled her slowly back down, putting her head back to his shoulder. They were just kids. Dumbledore was right but he was wrong as well. They needed him, his maturity, but he wasn't eleven. He didn't feel eleven. He didn't want his mother and father. He didn't crave a parental figure. He'd dealt with his problem, he'd filed it away for him to deal with as he needed. "come on," He whispered to her. "Let's go get the girls and head to one of the common rooms. We can sit down somewhere comfortable and relax for a bit somewhere safe."

She nodded into his shoulder and they moved into the bathroom.

* * *

Rain turned to snow and cold turned to freezing as the winter season attacked the castle. Hermione and Susan had both signed up to go home for the Christmas holiday, Su had let early via floo to be on time for her international portkey. He suspected that all of them still wanted to see their parents. Susan's aunt had come to the school as soon as she'd received Dumbledore's message and had met with them all. She was in charge of the Aurors, apparently, and she'd wanted to hear the tale from all of them.

Seeing and talking to her aunt had helped Susan more than he expected but she still had a shadow under her eyes and Hermione had claimed that her sleeping was still restless. Of course, Hermione only knew this because she didn't sleep well herself. Su was much the same.

The whole event had changed the girl in small ways. She didn't complain about Susan or Hermione suddenly being there all the time. Hannah joined them more often than Terry did which often left them out numbered by Hufflepuffs but she didn't say a word about it.

Just as well though, he was glad she didn't. He liked their new friends. Susan and Su were actually incredibly similar in their sarcasm where as Hermione's attitude was right up his alley. He was almost sure she studied more than him based solely on the fact that she couldn't remember everything after the first pass.

They were all gone now though, and Harry found himself alone at the single table that remained in the great hall. Most of the students had filtered out, off to do whatever they needed to before curfew. Harry remained, staring up at the floating candles wondering if they were enchanted to float and be ever burning or if there was some rune work involved on the wick that kept it alight.

He rolled his eyes and pushed. People would be turning in early in their excitement for the holiday but he didn't feel same glee. He didn't have anyone outside the castle to send him presents. The Dursley's certainly wouldn't and he didn't have any extended family besides Marge and he very much doubted he'd hear from her.

He found himself in front of the gargoyle that guarded the Headmasters office. He didn't have a real family but the Headmaster had promised to get him away from the one he was currently with. He hadn't heard anything about it since that day despite meeting with Dumbledore to test his magic at least once a week.

The Headmaster had at a loss for the reason his magic reacted the way it did. The stories he'd heard about intelligent magic were always independent of a wizard. They were in enchanted objects and cursed items. He set up a schedule where they would meet and go over magic while several charms were placed on both him and his wand. Nothing had come of it, not yet at least, though he had been being tutored by Albus Dumbledore. That more than made it worth it and it certainly made Su and Hermione jealous.

He'd was kidnapped to a fourth-floor classroom every afternoon, after his testing, where he went over the lessons for his friends. Susan tagged along for the sole purpose of dragging around the boy-who-lived. Apparently, it was a mark of pride for some.

"Is Professor Dumbledore in?" He asked slowly, unsure of the password.

The statue looked at him for a moment before it jumped to the side. Harry trekked up the stairs into the large office. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, a bow in his hand as he seemed to finish wrapping a present. "Harry!" he greeted jovially. "What a wonderful surprise. A happy Christmas Eve to you."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said as he walked forward and sat down.

"What can I do for you this very fine evening, my boy. I should think you'd rather be with your friends than up in this dusty old tower with this dusty old man."

Harry shook his head. "I don't spend much time with anyone besides Su, Hermione, and Susan and they've gone home for the holiday. Terry's stayed I guess, but we're not quite as close."

Dumbledore nodded. "The holidays always bring out the things we're thankful for, be it things we have or things we realize we miss in their absence. I'm glad you have friends Harry, even though you do miss them now and I'm happy to act as a replacement in their absence." he picked up the gift from his desk and walked around, sitting in the seat next to Harry. "Could you keep a secret?" he asked conspiratorially.

"Not a word," Harry said, zipping his lips.

"Very good. Discretion is the name of the game." He reached over and placed the gift in Harry's lap. "This was meant to be for tomorrow, of course, but it's the spirit of the holiday that is important."

Harry looked down at the gift and then back to the Headmaster, "Really?" He asked. "I mean, thank you it's just, I haven't gotten you anything. I didn't expect – "

Dumbledore held up a hand, silencing him. "The gift is in the giving my boy, I hadn't intended for you to even know it was from me, but here you are, looking for a friend to share the holidays with. I should think giving this old man company is gift enough."

Harry nodded and picked up the card. "My dad?" he asked quietly.

"An amazing young man, if not a bit of a trouble maker. I knew him well both in school and out. It would have been his dearest desire that you receive this while still in school. Though I'm inclined to believe you'll be a bit more responsible with it than I think he was."

Harry opened the wrapping slowly, savoring the moment for what it was. The fabric inside shimmered in the dim light of the fire and it pooled down like liquid when he picked it up and stood, looking at it fully. "A cloak?"

"A very special one. Put it on, put it on."

Harry waved it over his shoulders and pulled it around himself. His eyes widened as his body vanished under the fabric. "An invisibility cloak," he said, more than a little confused. "I didn't think they lasted that long, from what I read –"

Dumbledore laughed. "You are exceedingly bright my boy, yes the life span of an invisibility cloak is short indeed. This is a special cloak, however, and it's been in your family for a long time. Now, like it was given to your father before you, it's now been passed to you so as to continue the tradition."

Harry loosened his hold on the cloak and it fell open, becoming visible over his shoulders. "Thank you, sir."

"None of that tonight, Harry. I have known you since you were a babe in your mother's arms. Please call me Brian while we are here. My brother is fond of that name, and I've grown accustomed to hearing it over the years."

"Did you know my mother too, Professor," he stumbled over the name before repeating. "Did you know my mother, Brian."

Dumbledore's smile grew, "I did. She was an amazing young woman. You have her eyes, though I feel you've heard that before."

"Professor Flitwick had said that." Harry agreed. "He said she was really good a Charms and Potions."

"She was! She was alongside our very own Professor Snape during their Newts. I can't say for sure which one was better at the art and seeing how Professor Snape is one of the youngest potions masters in a century I can say that Lily Potter was very good at potions."

Harry made a face at that, "She knew Professor Snape?"

Dumbledore noted the face and nodded. "Yes, she did. She and he were very close during their years at Hogwarts. I'm was inclined to believe that she was his only friend, though that's all I'll say on the matter. We shall respect Professor Snape's privacy tonight. Your mother, however. I have a lot of stories about her. Your father too. These walls have so many stories, that I am happy to divulge."

Harry listened to the Headmaster as curfew came and went. Professor McGonagall had said she'd known them but the Headmaster told his stories with such gusto that Harry's dim mood had vanished under the onslaught of laughs that had followed his father's adventures in Hogwarts. His mother's life here was tame, in comparison, but no less interesting. He began to fall asleep to the warm fire as Dumbledore continued on. He fought it as long as he could before falling asleep, dreaming of his parents.

* * *

A commenter brought up that I was misspelling Su's name so I've changed it in this and the previous chapter.

If anyone notices any other mistakes please let me know. Any and all reviews are appreciated.

Peace Out!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

"Albus, is there any chance you have a free moment after dinner?" Pomona asked as she passed his seat in the great hall.

Dumbledore swallowed and nodded. "Of course. I believe Mr. Potter is set to be at my office by eight, shall I reschedule that?"

The portly woman nodded, "This needs your personal attention, I'm afraid."

"I'll see him informed then. Ahh, before if forget as well, the password is toffee."

Pomona snickered at the Muggle candy before moving down the table and taking her seat, filling it up to eat quickly.

* * *

Pomona arrived at his office before him and he could see her waiting in front of the gargoyle, a conjured chair under her. "Ah, my dear, shall we?" he asked, offering her a hand.

She swatted it away. "I take you down with me."

Albus laughed, "These old bones are stronger than they appear. Toffee." He sat down with a sigh, enjoying the comfort of his personal chair. He knew that Pomona was a self-sufficient person. She rarely came to him with problems from her house or classes. Relishing the comfort of his chair he focused on the woman standing across from him. "Now how might I be of assistance."

She reached into her robes and pulled out a sheet of very Muggle paper, "I received this earlier this evening." she led, handing him the paper. "Normally I'd do the contact myself, but seeing how she's gotten in with Mr. Potter I felt you'd rather handle it."

Dumbledore unfolded the paper and read it slowly, noting the rather ungainly figure of the letters. "You don't feel she wants this," he said, mostly to himself.

"You know full well that we've never had a Muggle-born leave by choice. I know she missed her parents, I know she's been having trouble sleeping since the troll. I've talked to her so many times in this last month, Albus, so many times. She does not want to leave the wizarding world. Her parents are making her, I guarantee it."

He nodded, agreeing with her assessment. "I have an appointment with Madam Bones at the ministry tomorrow. Seeing as I'll already be out and about, there's no reason I couldn't stop over and talk to them."

"Good," Pomona said. "Thank you. I'll respond, let them know to expect you. I doubt they'll be the happiest people but. . ." She trailed off, staring at his desk.

"I'll talk to them," he said. "Hopefully we'll be able to keep Ms. Granger in yellow and black come the new year."

* * *

Albus stepped out of the floo. It was going to be a very long day and he could feel it. Amelia Bones did not like him. She did not like that he held so many offices. She did not like that he had the ministers ear while being in such a position of power. Right now, she did not like that he didn't have an answer to her questions regarding the troll that had almost killed her niece.

He walked through the atrium and to the lifts on the far wall. People gave him a large birth, at least. They used to crowd him and question him endlessly. He'd enjoyed it in his youth, but he was glad they'd grown used to him. It was less of a hassle.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services." the voice of the lift spoke as he exited. Paper airplanes flew above him as he navigated the maze of the ministry to Amelia's office. He knocked on the door before he entered, and greeted her secretary politely. The young girl looked just out of school and spoke in a French accent. He smiled as she tripped over herself, waiting patiently for her to let Amila know he was there. The older woman stepped out of her office, looking every bit the department of law enforcement's head. She was tall, with a strong jaw. He smiled just as he had the young girl.

She continued with the same flat look she always wore around him. "Come on then," she waved him in. She walked around her desk ahead of him and began before he'd seated himself. "The minister has asked that we conclude this quickly, he doesn't like it when the children of his voting board members are in danger."

"If only we could all be so merited," Dumbledore said.

"My hit wizards found nothing." She said, ignoring him, "I've had the Aurors go through the back channels and we found word of a group of trolls that had been moved into the country last June and we've found that at least one of them was brought to Hogwarts." Her question was unasked, but he could feel her stare on his skin, demanding an answer.

He nodded, keeping his face a picture of calm. "And that troll is still on campus, locked behind ward on top of ward as it has been all year. I've had almost every teacher on staff provide some measure of protection that it would have to go through to escape and wreak and kind of havoc. I've placed my own protections as well and we've only doubled them since the incident."

"Why do you have a living troll on campus, Albus. They're four X creatures. No live subjects outside master classes that Hogwarts does not teach." Her voice went down, a low growl as she finished the sentence.

"Professor Snape and I have been using its blood and excretions in several alchemical experiments, much like I did with dragon's blood. A live specimen is required."

"And you didn't think having a troll on campus with children would be something you might want to inform the ministry of." she asked, tersely.

"You seem to be going off course in your line of questioning, my dear," Dumbledore said. "My troll is quite secure and quite alive. We had no second troll, and no troll has been living, naturally, in the British Isles in decades. You said your Aurors found a whole group in the country, are they all accounted for?"

Her face pinched for a moment before she took a breath. "No, they are not, which leads me to believe that somebody set it on the school. That implies a knowledge of the wards that aren't accessible to the public though, and that opens a can of worms that the minister will not accept."

"So you attempt to draw the investigation to within Hogwarts rather than find the culprit responsible?"

She scoffed, "what kind of person do you take me for. I need Fudge to loosen his grip on this, and you're in a unique position where the blame could land in your court."

"Ah, blackmail then."

"Politics." She responded.

"Very well, I'll admit, you have me at a disadvantage. I will speak to our esteemed minister and see what can be done regarding this whole debacle, so long as our extra student should remain anonymous, that is."

She breathed out a sour laugh, "Politics indeed. Fine, but I will be watching Albus. Susan is my only family, if something happens to her in your school your many titles won't be able to protect you from my axe."

* * *

He pulled at the tie. Even as a transfiguration that he, someone who could be considered a master of the art, had made with comfort in mind, the neck tie was too tight and the shirt was too itchy. The pants were too restrictive as well, though it was more an afterthought as he tugged at the necktie again, loosening it further. The muggles had done many things right, but clothing hadn't been one of them.

Albus straightened up, accepting his disheveled appearance with a dignity that only a man in his hundreds could, and knocked on the door. He smiled brightly as soon as it opened, "Good afternoon, Mr. Granger. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts" Daniel Granger towered over him, with wide shoulders and more girth than Albus thought he'd ever had in his life. Daniel Granger spoke in a deep voice, as well, and if Dumbledore was quite honest, Daniel Granger didn't seem very happy to see him. "I know who you are." He said, a grimace forming on his face. "You're here to try to convince me to send my daughter back to your school."

"An astute observation," Dumbledore said. "That is my intention, though I fear simply saying that doesn't quite bring forth the full intention of my visit. You have concerns. Valid concerns that my staff and I have been addressing since the unfortunate incident in question. I'm here to address those concerns you have and to try to mend the damage between Hogwarts and your family."

The man huffed lightly and pushed the door open fully. "Come in then. Let me grab my wife." Albus nodded and stepped into the house, following the man into a small dining area. "Have a seat then. Give me a moment."

Albus sat and watched the man leave the room. He lifted his suitcase and pulled out several papers, organizing them as he waited for the family to return.

A woman appeared first, Emma Granger, and her husband followed closely behind her. She was a sharp contrast to him. Dark skin that mirrored her daughters standing out against her husband's. "Ms. Granger." He said, smiling as brightly as he dared.

"Mr. Dumbledore." She responded, taking a seat across from him.

"Albus, please." He said quickly.

"Mr. Dumbledore," She said again. "You obviously feel strongly enough about this to come personally, so let's not drag this out."

Albus pursed his lips before nodding. "Very well. Your letter indicated that you wish to withdraw Ms. Granger, the younger, from attendance at Hogwarts."

"She nearly died in that school of yours," Emma said, her voice breaking as she did. "How can you possibly expect us to send her back?"

"I understand that your daughter has suffered a great trauma – "

"I don't think you do understand," Daniel said, cutting him off. "She's our only daughter, and she almost died. She almost died in a castle in the middle of the god forsaken highlands. We wouldn't have been there, we wouldn't have even known until a week after it happened." He slammed his fist onto the table. "She almost died."

Emma rubbed his arm before looking at the silenced Professor. "Say what you've come to say. We said we'd listen, for Hermione sake, if nothing else."

Dumbledore nodded and sighed. "I'd brought these," He said, waving over the papers. "They're your daughters class work, her test scores for the past term. She's an exceptional witch and an exceptional young woman. I had wanted to on convey that to you, but I failed to consider that this is not news to you. They also contain information on our school wards, our protections, but I don't feel they would sway you as I had hoped they might." his wand slipped into his hand and he banished the papers, along with his suitcase.

He stood, and released the magic keeping his clothes as they were and his robes billowed down. He could see the slight shock on the pair's faces as he casually used magic, but he ignored it as he began to pace. "If that failed me, I planned to attempt to convey that, despite the terrible experience your daughter suffered, that she still very much belongs at Hogwarts, where she can learn the wonders of magic, but seeing you now I understand that you will not be swayed by that argument either."

Daniel shook his head, as he glared at Dumbledore. "My final argument is an appeal to you, as Hermione's parents, to consider your daughter. Her head of house, Professor Sprout, has talked with your daughter extensively, as you've no doubt been informed. Your daughter has likely informed you as well, but she has friends at our school. Close friends that have been made even close by the trial they experienced together."

He could hear Daniel's teeth grind together, and he stopped himself from questioning the dentist by biting his lip. "Hermione's had a tough time growing up," Emma said. "We've moved a lot, that certainly didn't help, and she's not the most socially adept, but she's young, and she'll make new friends."

"But will the resentment that grows in her be too much for you to endure?" Dumbledore asked

Daniel's fist hit the table again. "She's our daughter!" he yelled.

"She was your daughter," Dumbledore said, walking up to the table and meeting Daniel's eye. "Now she is a witch, and she will never forget that. She has learned magic and she has learned what she could be and, as smart as we know she is, she will know what you are stealing from her. Can you stand to be the one that takes her future from her? Can you stand seeing her grow to hate you?"

It was cruel. Needlessly cruel, but this girl had joined a closed group of people that Harry Potter called a friend. The trauma of the troll had driven them together in shared grief, shared terror. Their friends from before the incident did not really understand, they were too young to understand what fearing death was.

Harry Potter was a broken child, and his friends were the only thing that might save him, and Albus would not risk that.

"She can hate me to the day she dies, old in her bed," Daniel said quietly, his jaw flexing as he restrained his voice. "But she will die old, not in your school. Not hidden away from her family."

Dumbledore sighed. "Your conviction is stunningly refreshing," he said. "I do have to apologize, it seems."

"Take your apologies and get out of my house."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I feel I must. I am sorry, so very sorry it has come to this. Know that I do not like this, but you leave me no choice." Daniel's eyes widened as he raised his wand and he pulled his wife to him, fear suddenly setting in his eyes. "Obliviate."

* * *

Harry walked down the stairs as students filled the entrance hall, passing in groups toward the great hall for the return feast. He looked for his friends in the group, feeling their absence after the long weeks.

Dumbledore was fun company. He'd learned about his parents and their lives within Hogwart's walls. He'd also gotten to study under a century old mage while they continued their testing. He suspected that the old man knew everything he needed to make his deductions, but he continued to show up and allow Dumbledore to scan him.

"Harry!"

A brown bullet slammed into him, wrapping its arms around him as he stumbled backward to catch himself under the new weight. "Hello, Hermione," he said, looking down at the mess of hair buried against his chest.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you." She said, letting him go and looking at him. He could see the lingering traces of tears on her face.

"What's wrong," He asked, suddenly much more focused on her.

She sniffed before wiping her face. "Nothing's wrong right now." She said before hugging him again. "My parents wanted to keep me home. Pull me out of Hogwarts." She shook her head against him. "Professor Dumbledore came to talk with them and straightened everything out. I'm just happy to be here."

He nodded, considering her parents. The Dursley's would hardly care if he'd told them but he supposed that was the point. "I'm glad you're back," he said.

She smiled as a half laugh burst forth. "I'm glad to be back. Come on, let's get to the feast, I want to find Susan and Su."

* * *

"I can't imagine not learning magic," Su said as they sat in the Ravenclaw common room.

"Your parents grew up with it though, you grew up with it. My parents don't understand." Hermione said, shrugging. "I know where they're coming from but. . ." She trailed off and leaned into the plush couch.

Susan patted her shoulder. "They can't use magic. They don't understand, and that's that. Just because their daughter's a witch doesn't mean they understand what it means to be one."

"Still, you're lucky the headmaster decided to step in. I can't imagine not learning magic."

"You said that already, Su," Hermione said.

"It's true!" Su yelped. "I mean, like you said, I get it. Your parents are parents it's their job – yadda yadda. I think I might have just run away if mine tried it."

"Your parents are magical," Harry said quietly.

"Semantics." Su waved off. "It's the idea of them trying that I'm talking about."

"Either way, like I said, the headmaster talked to them and they agreed it'd be best to come back. I'm really glad he did too." She brandished papers from her bag. "I got all Os! She said excitedly

Su laughed out loud, drawing the attention of several other students in the, mostly, quiet room. "Of course, with the threat of being pulled out of school for magic in an enchanted castle, you're happy about your test scores. I'm done with you," Hermione had the decency to blush in the face of the other girl's amusement. "How was your break, Harry? No death defying acts of courage over Christmas?"

"Nothing so daring, I'm afraid." He said with a chuckle, "I talked to Dumbledore a lot, he told me about my parents. I studied a lot."

"Of course," Su said glibly.

"Shush, we're in Ravenclaw, it's our job to study." He chided, "Professor Dumbledore had me start working with Professor Quirrell on more specific exercises, too."

"Did he figure anything out about your magic?" Hermione asked, leaning forward again, her past embarrassment forgotten.

"If he did, he's not sharing. I don't think he's found anything though. I can't find it in me to believe he would waste our time for so long if he'd already found an answer."

"Maybe he found the answer and it's not good. Maybe he's looking for a solution before telling you?" Susan said quietly.

Harry nodded, "I'd thought of that and, of course, I've asked him directly. He's very evasive about the whole thing, which doesn't lead to an excess of confidence. I actually wanted to talk to you guys about it. I needed your help."

"What do you need?" Hermione asked a little too eagerly.

Harry smiled at her enthusiasm. "We've been running these tests for a little over two months now and I've learned most of the spells that the headmaster uses. He's not being the most forthcoming and while I have my own readings, I don't have anyone else. I was hoping I could do the same scans on you girls to find a real baseline to compare myself to."

* * *

This wasn't him. He didn't break rules, and the headmaster had specifically said that he expected him to use his cloak better than his father had. The temptation was too great though. He didn't know where the idea had come from. He didn't know how it had dug so deeply into his mind that he couldn't banish it, but it was there, snuggling right next to his growing fascination with treacle tart.

He snuck around the corner, his feet silenced to eliminate the weakness of the cloak. The school was a different place at night when there weren't any students congesting the halls. He could hear the echoes from the prefect patrols bouncing off the walls from whole floors away, and the quiet noise alongside the empty halls left him with a serene feeling in his chest.

He explored most of the night, exhaustion fleeing from him in the wake of his overwhelming desire to explore. It was no surprise, really, when he found a mirror standing alone in a room off the main corridors.

The thought of further exploration disappeared from his mind in an instant and, thinking clearly for the first time since he'd set out, he recognized the effects of the compulsion he'd been under. It set him on edge as the possibilities flew through his head. Nobody had attacked him yet, that was promising, but he didn't discard the possibility. He took a step in front of the mirror and looked at it fully. The compulsion had brought him here, and with the lack of people, he could only assume this was his target.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." He said in a whisper. It wasn't any language he could recognize so he pulled out his wand and waved it over the mirror, spell dying on his tongue as he caught the reflection.

His reflection stared back at him, smiling brightly as he wrapped his arm around a faceless girl with a child in her arms. He was older, far older, but it was absolutely him. The jagged mess of flesh that was half of his forehead left little doubt. He didn't understand it though. He moved around but his reflection didn't repeat the action, it just looked to the woman and then to the child, reaching up and cooing it. It just repeated the action, seemingly on a loop as he watched. He gripped his wand tighter as he waved it again. The cornucopia of enchantments that filled the mirror overwhelmed him as he stared at it.

It was beyond complex. Beyond anything that he had seen thus far. His reflection smiled again and for the first time, it mirrored him properly. Classes had been getting slow again. Magic was complicated but he'd begun to outstrip his classmates even more than he already had and homework was simple. This was a challenge, and he felt giddy thinking about it.

* * *

"Again, please," Harry asked.

Hermione's voice echoed off the walls of the unused classroom and new information filled his mind. It was odd, feeling a sudden influx of information from no physical source. He'd thought it was odd when he performed the scans on himself but it was doubly so when it was on someone else. He felt he had a unique advantage with using the information, though, as he processed it and filed it away like paper in a binder for him to go over later.

The girls had been immensely helpful. They had worked with him during their free time over the last few weeks, allowing him to study their magic as he studied his own. He still met with Dumbledore, but their meetings had grown infrequent. Dumbledore had explained that his positions within the ministry required more attention in the early months of the year, as the Wizengamot met more frequently. Professor Quirrell took over their meetings and began working on control exercises. With both his and Dumbledore's inability to discern any noticeable differences in his magic, the only solution was to gain control of it. Credit due, Professor Quirrell had been an excellent teacher and, much like his meetings with Dumbledore, he learned far more than just the exercises.

His magic still seemed to be aware, alive in its own way, but it didn't jump up anymore. He could feel it talking to him. Wordlessly directing him as he learned new spells and practiced new magics. It hadn't taken over again, though. He controlled it, not the other way around.

He was frustrated though. None of the girls could properly describe their magic. Susan and Su couldn't even feel it. Hermione could, but much like his own experience, she first noticed it when she held a wand and the feeling became apparent. He'd asked Hermione to describe casting and she'd only said she could feel the magic moving as she directed it.

It was nothing like what he felt, even though every scan came back nearly identical. She was a powerful witch with magic that was growing even faster than his own, but beyond that, there was nothing different and it was driving him up a wall.

"That's enough." He said with a sigh.

She picked up on his frustration immediately. "Nothing still?" She asked

"Nothing." He said as he walked to the table where their bags and his books were. He scribbled a note at the bottom of the journal, marking the difference in Hermione's magic. Her's was growing quickly. Much faster than any of their small group and he wanted to track it as the only noticeable difference he'd found. "Fucking nothing." He threw his quill at the wall as he pushed off the table.

"Language." Hermione chided she walked up behind him and pushed him back into a chair, ignoring his temper. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let you out of the hospital wing if he thought you were in any danger. That means we have time to figure this out."

"That's easy for you to say," He snapped. "Your magic isn't an independent force that may or may not just snatch control of your body away from you!"

"Don't you yell at me, Harry James Potter," Hermione responded harshly. "You've lost control one time, and it saved our lives. There haven't been any incidents since then. Looking at the evidence we have we can make the assumption that what happened was due to the imminent danger and your magic, with its apparent sentience, coming to your aid."

Harry clenched his teeth as he stood, pushing the seat back a bit. "Fine, we can assume that it's benevolent and just wants to help me. That offers a measure of comfort but we haven't even been able to begin to understand why. Why is it aware, why is it bloody capable of helping me in the first place!"

"I'm not going to say language again, Harry, you know I don't like it," Hermione said as she walked with him, matching his pace as he began to walk a circle in the small room.

He sighed as his shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry." He looked at the floor as his mind worked over what he knew again and still came up empty. He glanced sideways to see Hermione walking next to him, matching his pace in silence. "I am sorry." He said a bit louder. "I'm just so frustrated with this. It's my magic and it's like a foreign entity inside me."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "I understand, Harry. I can't imagine it."

"It's not an excuse for snapping, though." He said as she stopped with him. "I'm getting too worked up with this. You're right. Dumbledore doesn't seem worried about it just yet. We have time to figure it out. You're right."

"Of course I'm right." She said, her smile turning sly, "For being so smart it's taken you a while to pick up on that one."

He shoved her shoulder lightly before turning and walking back to the table, "Don't get a big head, number 2" He said with a smirk. She squawked indignantly as she marched up behind him.

"Not all of us can remember everything! It's hardly fair to place you in the same grouping with the rest of us." She said, beginning to shove her books into her bag.

Harry laughed as he packed up, "I mean, hey, if me being disqualified is the only way you can be first in the year." He ducked back as she swatted at him and began to flee as she gave chase, his frustration forgotten.

* * *

He returned nightly, for several weeks, no longer worrying about breaking the rules as he slid into the unused room. Exhaustion was a thing of fiction as he worked, a new notebook floating with a quill as he spoke. He had a stack of books on a dusty table that he consulted frequently. Every day he brought new ones from the library, but he doubted they'd be enough. He'd made it through all the simple enchantments. They animated the image on the mirror even though they had no source. The higher level stuff was baffling him, even after all the time he'd spent with the mirror. He wanted access to the restricted section but he'd found himself unable to ask for it.

He was unable to tell anyone about the mirror at all.

It was almost certainly an underlying level of the initial compulsion that he couldn't shake, but he was too consumed in the study of the mirror to dedicate any time to learn to break it. He wanted to say that his obsession was part of the compulsion as well, but he couldn't believe it. This was his element and he enjoyed it immensely.

"Ahh, Harry."

He jumped as he turned, bringing his hand up to his chest to calm his suddenly racing heart. Dumbledore stood in the shadow of the door, looking through the room. He walked in, saying nothing as he ran his hand over the books and looking at the sprawled parchment with lines of arithmetic sequences that were far beyond his year. He'd begun learning more advanced Arithmancy specifically for the mirror, having not needed for his early education. "You have been busy." He mused quietly.

Harry nodded, not having found his voice just yet.

Dumbledore looked at his floating notebook as it scribbled down the old man's words. He finally turned his gaze on the Harry. "Have you discovered it's purpose yet, my boy?" He asked

"No, not yet," Harry answered, the direct question finally bringing forth his voice.

"A shame, I've always found the most joy in discovering something myself. I fear I shall have to ruin the surprise, though." He said, "After tonight the mirror is going to be moved, and I have to ask that you not try to find it again."

Harry had to repress the overwhelming disappointment he felt at the news. He'd put hours upon hours into his project and he desperately wanted to fight the headmaster on the subject, but it would have been futile, in the end. Dumbledore had been the closest thing to a parental figure he'd ever had and Harry could accept his request. "What's it do?" He asked, though. His curiosity could be answered if nothing else.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," Dumbledore said, reading the mirror as he had when he'd found it. "I show not your face but your hearts desire." He continued. "The mirror of Erised shows a person the thing they desire most deeply. The thing that their heart yearns for the most. Men have wasted away in front of this mirror, forgetting to eat and drink as they stared at it. I admit myself impressed that you can look away so easily." he said, casting a quick look at the surface of the mirror for the first time.

His gaze kept for a moment before he shook himself and found Harry again. "What do you see, Sir," Harry asked, looking at the mirror himself. He still smiled brightly before doting on his family - an endless loop of happiness. He'd never given real thought to the image. He'd thought he would discover its meaning when he learned how it was made. Knowing that it was its hearts deepest desire shed a new light on it and Harry found himself really looking at it. The girl was still faceless with brown hair that was flat on her head and the child looked more like him than her. It gave a general appearance for them because the person wasn't the point, he decided. He wanted a family. He wanted to be welcomed and loved. The thought was distant as memories of the Dursleys came to mind and he snapped his eyes back to the headmaster.

The old man chuckled at the blunt question. "I see old friends," He answered honestly, keeping his gaze firmly on the young boy, not risking another glance at the mirror. "And lost love. I see the paths not taken. It might consume me if I stared too long. If I might return the question, my boy, what do you see?"

Harry looked down, trying to find the right words before a cynical huff broke through his lips. "What I didn't have." He said, glancing back at the child in his mother's arms. He closed his eyes slowly and fought back the bad memories. "It has more of an impact, now that I know what I'm seeing."

"I imagine it must." Dumbledore's hand fell on Harry's shoulder and Harry looked up to see his bag being filled before flying to him. "Let's take our leave, put all these dark thoughts behind us."

Harry nodded silently, letting Dumbledore guide him away from the mirror. He didn't think he'd try to find it again.

* * *

"Ahh, Harry!" The small man ran around his desk, climbing up into the too tall chair to rise above it. "I didn't think you'd arrive quite so early. Come in, come in."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said politely, shutting the door behind him as he entered his head of house's office. Filius Flitwick had met with him more than a few times since Halloween but not much after the new year. Su had been more touched by the troll than he had, and he was fine with the professor giving her more of his time. He hadn't expected to be called in again, given how close it was to the end of the year. Nothing of note had happened in the new term and hadn't heard any rumors about him that might need addressing.

"Not at all," Flitwick said, waiting for Harry to sit before beginning. "Now, as you know, end of term exams are coming shortly." Harry nodded, having been studying for them just before he'd come. His knowledge of the first year curriculum was mostly complete, but he'd jumped around in the books from upper years frequently, and he wanted to make sure he knew everything needed for the tests he would be taking. "I've noticed a distinct lack of focus from you. It's not a new observation, and I'm not the only one who's made it, and after consulting the headmaster we thought we'd bring it to you."

Harry sighed, knowing where this conversation would go now.

"Professor Dumbledore, particularly, felt that we should offer you a more thorough test, come exams. One that might let us know exactly where you stand next to your peers."

"I'm assuming that I'll take it in place of my exam." He asked. Truth be told he was unsure if he wanted to take it. He'd always moved up as fast as possible. Learned as quickly as possible at the highest level he was capable of learning and it had left him lonely. Hogwarts was a second chance, in that aspect. He was with people his own age for the first time since Dudley had scared away any potential friends he might have had. He wasn't sure if he wanted to rush Hogwarts as he had Muggle schooling.

"Not at all," Flitwick said, surprising him. "No, it would be a separate testing that we would schedule with you before exams so we could learn where you are. Some magic is tricky to learn alone, and it's quite clear that you've been moving ahead. Worse than tricky, some magic is dangerous to learn alone. Hogwarts is a safe place to learn magic and we would be failing in our duties if we let you move into those waters alone."

"Would I have to move ahead to upper year classes?" Harry asked.

"It would be a possibility. However, you wouldn't be able to move quite that far ahead. The headmaster showed us your Muggle school records, and as astonishing as it is that you can learn so quickly, you'll find that it's not quite as streamlined on this side of the veil. The fifth year testing, your Owls, cannot be taken before fifteen years of age. On the same vein, seventh year testing cannot be taken until after that, at seventeen."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that. He knew little about the ministry and beyond the knowledge that there was government required testing in fifth and seventh year he couldn't claim any sort of understanding of their workings. "What will happen when I finish with the seventh year curriculum?" He asked, knowing full well he'd finish early.

"That is the question of the week," Filius said with a squeak as he smiled. "I have seen many very bright students pass through these halls but none that have ever picked up on the intricacies of magic quite so quickly. Headmaster Dumbledore has been going through school records to see if it has a precedent that we may follow. For the moment we're simply going to see about getting you to the appropriate level, hence this test."

* * *

"If yo-you could stay behind Mr. Po-potter." Professor Quirrell asked as class was dismissed and he went to clean up his desk.

"Everything okay, Harry?" Hermione asked as she and Susan walked by his seat.

Harry nodded, packing his bag up and leaving it on his desk as he walked the three girls to the door. "Yeah, I'm guessing this is the testing that Professor Flitwick was talking about."

"Lucky," Su said as she shuffled past him. "Better take notes for us."

"Of course," He answered with a smile. "I'll see you three at dinner, yeah."

"Good luck." They chorused as they left. Harry turned back to the empty classroom and looked for the professor. Quirrell had vanished, likely up to the private office at the back of the room. Harry walked up and looked through the various glass containers as he waited. He'd met with Quirrell enough times to know that the man was fine with him exploring the various stock he had around the room.

The back door opened and Harry turned immediately. "Ahh, g-good. Thank you fo-for staying back." Quirrell glanced around the room for a moment before flicking his wand out of his sleeve and flicking it. The door slammed shut and Harry heard the lock slam into place. He raised an eyebrow to his professor.

The man turned away from him slowly, his shoulders straightening as he stood a little straighter. "Our good headmaster wants me to give you this." The man said, holding up a stack of papers from his desk. The little hairs on Harry's neck stood as the man spoke clearly. Something was wrong. He pulled his wand out slowly, trying to be silent. "Of course our esteemed headmaster is out tonight. Third Friday of the month, Wizengamot meeting that will more than likely run late. Shame." The man turned and looked to Harry's wand. A smile washed over his face at the sight. Quirrell flicked his wand again and Harry tried to move as the white spell moved at him. It was too fast though and it splashed against his shoulder.

Nothing happened as he almost tripped over himself in fear. He looked at the still smiling man. He opened his mouth to yell but nothing came out. He reached to his throat and listened as his magic rose to it. He felt the block immediately.

"Crucio." His eyes widened as he heard the word. He knew that spell. He knew all three of those spells and he dived out of the way, not caring as he slammed into the desk to his left and let out a silent yelp. "Good. Flee. Put up a fight, Harry Potter. Crucio."

Harry pushed the desk in front of him as he rolled back, hiding in the line of desks as he crawled behind them. The desk shattered under the spell but Harry didn't' stop to stare. His heart was pounding in his chest and his magic was at full volume, singing it's silent song as it egged him on as he moved away from Quirrell's footsteps. "Do you have any idea how frustrating it has been, Harry Potter, to deal with the students in this school. I wanted to be a teacher once. I'm good at teaching, but the students." Quirrell hummed quietly. "I can't stand them. You though." He stopped talking and the desk next to Harry flipped over him. "You have no idea how I have enjoyed teaching you, Harry Potter. Crucio."

Harry tried to dodge from his crouched position, but he wasn't fast enough. He screamed as his breath left him. The sound was silent but his ears still rang as his magic screamed out with him. A thousand white hot needles being pulled through his veins, that's how the book had described the pain, but it didn't seem enough. It didn't convey the full force of the spell. Harry's body spasmed and his legs locked, shooting him up straight for a moment before he fell back, his head smashing against another desk as the pain continued. He only knew he hit the desk because he could see the blood on it. He hadn't felt the impact as the torture continued.

Finally, the pain ended. He didn't stop screaming though. Everything hurt. Everything ached and his body shook violently on the ground. "You are so bright. You don't need me to go back or start over. Your magic is strong like none of your classmates. You remind me so very much of myself at your age. You're better if I'm completely honest. I almost want to let you live to see what you might become. It would be such a sight." Harry barely registered the words as he clung to consciousness. He knew the man was going to kill him, but it might very well be a reprieve from his suffering.

Harry felt more magic wash over him and he saw his body fade away under a disillusionment charm. "Come, Harry, we have an appointment." His body was jerked into the air and the sudden motion caused a fresh wave of tremors to shake his body. He didn't know where he was taken. He faded in and out as Quirrell floated him along behind him. He tried to groan out a call for help as they passed people but he remained silenced.

"Here we are," Quirrell said, finally, as they arrived at a rather unassuming door. Harry didn't know where they were and he was barely aware enough to care. A slap brought him fully awake as the pain made him spasm again. "You get to play teachers assistant this evening, Harry Potter. I do hope you're as excited as I am." He said with a wide grin that didn't look entirely sane. "Let's begin." He said, opening the door as a loud growl started.

* * *

And we'll end there! As always I love to hear your opinions. I'll see you next chapter.

Peace Out!


	6. Chapter 6

Wooo! This story hit 10,000 views and is at 14,037 at the time of posting. That was a bit faster than I expected so THANK YOU all you lovely people. A special thank you for all those who comment and tell me what your thoughts are, you're the reason I keep posting.

AN: This chapter is a bit more violent than the last chapter. Just a warning, for those of you who don't enjoy reading that sort of thing.

AN2: I've gotten more than one guest review telling me that I should stop writing this story because I'm clearly incompetent. Their main supporting argument is that I've made Hermione black. I would post their comments, but I delete them on principle. So, to anyone that has a problem with the relatively minor change I've made in having a black Hermione, I welcome you to leave a signed review so that we can actually talk about it, so we can have a discussion on our points of view. To those of you who hide behind your anonymity to insult me and my writing, I'll just continue to ignore you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

Quirrell dragged him through the corridors hidden under the trap door. The Cerberus barely slowed him down. A single spell to conjure a harp and the beast lulled to sleep nearly immediately. In less than a minute for the beast's growl to fade and for it to begin snoring. Quirrell lectured him as they moved through the rest of the rooms, telling him how he dismantled to charms and walked through the protections that had been set up through the halls.

Something important was at the end of the corridor, Harry knew that. He knew that Quirrell had been waiting to take it, likely the whole year. Through the pain, he ran through all the scenarios he could imagine. He wasn't bound by anything but moving caused his body spasm, making even the simplest actions require herculean strength. It was a strength he found himself lacking, and every scenario fell apart when faced with his inability to run. Even if he still had his wand, it having been lost at some point, he doubted he could aim it properly. Even if he could, Quirrell was far superior with a wand.

Finally, they arrived at the end of the path, Quirrell forcing a potion down his throat before walking them through fire. Harry saw the mirror as stood in the center of the room. "Stay still, if you would be so kind," Quirrell said, the spell holding him in the air cutting out and letting him fall to the floor. The breath was knocked out of him as he slammed into it. He wheezed, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to breath despite the pain jolting through his body.

When he found air, he looked to see the man circling the mirror, his wand out. "So simple," Quirrell said, laughing to himself quietly. "So incredibly complicated, so needlessly complicated." He looked back to Harry and waved his wand, jerking the boy up to his feet and pulling him to him.

Harry's body screamed out in protest at the sudden movement and even more sudden stop, his feet firmly stuck to the ground in front of the mirror. Like a switch flipping inside of him, the magic blocking his voice vanished. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice coming out in far more of a whine than he expected. Everything hurt though. His body was on fire just standing here, the muscles being used to keep him upright weeping under his weight. "What do you want?" He sobbed, unable to keep the pain out of his voice.

"You haven't been told," Quirrell said. "I'm unsurprised, really, but I had hoped to skip this part of the night." He waved his wand in a circle lazily as he turned away, walking around the mirror again. "You're a smart boy, I'm sure I have no need to tell you who Nicolas Flamel."

Harry nodded his head, recognizing the name. He called up everything he knew about the man, trying to push past the shroud of pain to learn why he was relevant.

"Crucio," Harry screamed, all thoughts vanishing as the spell penetrated everything he was. It was over in an instant, barely a second, but it was too much. "I expect you to answer my questions, Harry Potter. I am your professor after all."

"Yes!" Harry yelped as he tried to fall down, desperate to lay on the cold floor and stop the pain of simply standing. "Yes, I know him."

"Sir, Yes I know him, sir," Quirrell said, lifting his wand again. Harry shut his eyes, attempting to brace for the pain. Quirrell laughed quietly, "I shall assume you've done your homework then and that you know of his stone. The Philosopher's Stone."

Harry opened his eyes slowly, seeing the man walking circles around the mirror again, his eyes never leaving the surface. "Yes, sir." He said.

"Very good. Fifteen points to Ravenclaw. Did you also know that the stone is in Hogwarts right now? In this room with us, actually."

"No, sir," But it made sense. His torture made sense now, in a horrible way. Quirrell was after the stone. He didn't know if the man wanted the gold or immortality, or both, but he would do anything to get it.

"I thought not. Our dear headmaster likes to play these things close to the vest. I hadn't thought he would let you know, I had hoped though, It would make this much easier. Look at the mirror, Harry Potter. Do you know what this mirror is?"

Harry nodded again, "The mirror of Erised." He answered quickly.

"Very good. Knowing its name, I can assume you also know it's purpose, which further serves me." He walked around the mirror again before sweeping past him and standing behind him. "Look into the mirror, Harry Potter. Tell me what you see in it." Harry felt the man's wand come to rest on his temple and he looked into the mirror.

His reflection was resting on a white bed, sleeping peacefully. Madam Pomfrey walking around him, her wand dancing over him, curing him of his ailments. "I'm safe." He said, his voice straining against his frayed vocal cords. "I'm in the hospital wing."

Quirrell laughed again, "Do you know how you can make that happen, Harry Potter? Do you know how you can be free of this hell you find yourself in?"

"No, sir. How?"

"You need to give me the Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter. If you give me the stone then you will be free to leave this place."

Hope welled within him for the first time. He knew, logically, that Quirrell was likely lying. Realistically he would never see the hospital wing again. He'd likely never leave this room, his use done when the stone was given up. Hope still formed inside him, filling up the darkness that had been festering since he'd first been muted. "How do I get it, sir?"

"You have to want it, Harry Potter. You have to want it more than anything in the world."

Harry's eyes locked on the mirror, but the image didn't change. He was still asleep in the white bed, still peaceful. He didn't see a stone, he wasn't even sure what it looked like to find. "What does it look like?" He asked, panic fighting with hope.

"You don't see it? Hmm, it seems you haven't been properly motivated."

"No, I see it!" Harry yelled, his mouth moving before his mind.

Quirrell chuckled darkly, "Lying doesn't become you, Harry Potter. The stone will free you from this. Give me the stone and it will end. Crucio." He wasn't sure how long he was kept under the curse, he blacked out before it was lifted. "Wake up." Quirrell's voice pulled him out of the brief release. "Give me the stone, Harry Potter."

Harry looked at the mirror again, barely able to see properly. He still sat in the white bed. He cried out seeing it, not understanding. "Pain doesn't seem a proper motivation." Quirrell mused. "No matter. There are other ways to entice. Perhaps I will drive up some natural terror. Reach out the humanity inside you. "Secarepellis." He whispered, his wand glowing red as he brought it up to Harry's face.

He felt his skin split under the magic and he desperately tried to struggle against the magic holding him still as Quirrell slowly brought it closer to his eye. "Please stop! Please!" Harry yelled, terror, gripping him as the pain seemed to dull.

"Give me the stone!" Quirrell yelled, the teacher persona finally falling.

Harry's eyes latched desperately to the mirror and it changed in front of him. The white bed fading into the dimly lit chamber they were in. His reflection looked at him with all the pity he might have felt if he was an outsider looking in. The reflection lifted the stone, examining it for a moment before putting it into its robes. Harry felt a weight settle into his own pocket "I have it!" he shouted, suddenly aware of Quirrell's wand again.

Quirrell's hand shot up, and Harry felt vomit rise in his throat as the red line his wand left behind split his face open, his eye dividing into two pieces in its socket. He felt the block replace itself in his throat as the bonds keeping him up faded. He collapsed to the floor, unable to hold his weight. "Give it to me now, Harry Potter. I will not ask twice."

Harry couldn't see him, his right eye was ruined and he couldn't manage to open his left, but he still pulled the stone out of his pocket and lifted it up. Quirrell's hand wrapped around his as he grabbed it.

It was a tickle, A feeling he would have missed as it pulsed against the pain he was in. His magic jumped though, singing wildly as Quirrell touched him. It was deafening as it danced through him, pushing out the pain as much as it could.

"Finally," Quirrell said, his footsteps trotting away from Harry. "Thank you, Harry Potter. You have no idea how long I have sought this stone. So many nights spent in seclusion, so many nights spent in squaller. Ten years I've been hunting, hoping that it might become available to me." His steps rounded and began approaching Harry again. "You have no idea why this is happening, you have no idea the purpose you have served tonight. I shall inform you, before I release you from your torment, as I promised."

Harry's magic pushed everything out of his mind. The pain, the terror. It sang to him frantically, pushing him to get up, to touch the man again.

"Ten years, Harry Potter. It has been ten years since I have stood over you like this. The last time we were here I tried to kill you and I failed. But now you have given me this fantastic gift, you have given me the means to remake myself, to be born again."

Comprehension formed in Harry's mind, and with the pain being forced away he opened his eye, seeing Quirrell again. It wasn't the same man he'd known all year though. Quirinus Quirrell was a stuttering, slouching man. Voldemort stood over him now and Harry could see the man's red eyes looking down at him.

"You might have been an opponent worth having when you were older," Voldemort said, crouching down. He lifted his wand a fraction, aiming it at Harry.

His magic surged, and Harry moved with it.

Voldemort moved back as he stood, but kept his wand steady. "I will not fail twice, Harry Potter."

Harry rushed forward, only his magic keeping him up as he reached out and grabbed Voldemorts hand. His magic tickled again as it reached out, latching onto Voldemorts. In that moment they were one, and Harry felt whole. His pain was gone, his mind was clear. Voldemort's eyes widened at the sudden feeling, and he snarled, "Avada –," like a rubber band, Harry felt his magic go taut, and like a rubber band it shot back.

The spell died on Voldemort's lips as his eye shot open. The red vanished from his eyes as a black mist blasted out of him and shot through the room, a horrible scream coming from it before it passed through a wall, disappearing. Harry released his hold on the man's hand and watched him collapse, his eyes still wide.

His magic's song slowed, and he felt the pain return. His legs gave out quickly, and he was unconscious before he hit the floor.

* * *

Dumbledore gave a silent groan as he walked through the atrium. He stood up a little straighter, stretching his back until he felt a pop. He groaned a bit louder at that.

The Wizengamot could squabble for hours without accomplishing anything and, as he aged, he found himself losing his patience more quickly as the would be lords argued with themselves. It was only the fear of what the old families, the ones who had supported Voldemort, could do in his absence that made him keep the position.

He tossed the powder into the fire and stepped through, his office greeting him with its pleasant warmth. His eyes drooped a bit as he trudged to his chair. He didn't notice, immediately, the low chime from a small orb on the table behind his desk. His mind kick-started upon hearing it, the traces of sleep fading as he rushed to the orb.

"No." He breathed out before turning and running out of the room.

* * *

Albus felt tears form at the edge of his eyes as he watched Pomfrey work. Severus had been called. The school had no potion in stock to treat the effects of the Cruciatus, and he would be up most of the night brewing it.

The stone was safe, he'd found it clutched in the deceased Quirinus's hand. The thought offered little solace, though, in the wake of Harry's condition. He was bleeding horribly from the cut across his face and, even in his sleep, he shook from the effects of the unforgivable.

He lifted his arm and wiped the tears away before they could fall. He had hoped that the stone would draw out Voldemort. He had hoped that having Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone in the same place would be too great a temptation for his old student. It was his folly, in underestimating the man, that had led to this and he didn't know if he could forgive himself. Just another mistake to add to a list that had grown far too large.

"How is he." He asked as Pomfrey finally sat back.

The woman looked at him, her eyes sharp as she started. "He's been under the Cruciatus curse. Not terribly long, as far as I can tell, but definitely more than once. Thankfully it's not caused any serious damage. The shaking will stop when Severus gets us the potion." She leaned forward again, and he mimicked the action, leaning in to see the damage he had caused. "This is the real damage. His eye was completely unsalvageable. Dark magic," She growled, "If I'd gotten to him right away I could have saved the eye. As it is Mr. Potter is lucky I was able to salvage the optic nerve."

She fell back again, sagging into the chair behind her. "I have to floo Saint Mungo's. I've stopped the curse from doing any more damage than it already has, but I have little experience with eyes. We have to call in an expert if Mr. Potter wants to have a prosthetic fitted."

Dumbledore nodded. "Please don't let me stop you. I'll wait here with him while you do."

She shuffled away, passing the covered body of Quirinus as she went. When her office door shut, and the only noise in the room was the tremor that shook Harry, Dumbledore leaned over and cried.

* * *

"Headmaster Dumbledore," The old witch greeted as she walked up to him. "I'm Healer Brinn."

Dumbledore stood from the waiting room chair and returned her greeting. "I assume you are the expert Madam Pomfrey contacted."

"You assume correctly. Follow me, please."

She turned and walked into the hospital proper, leading him through the spell damage ward and to Harry's room. His face was half wrapped in bandages that looked like they were already stained and the sight made him want to weep again.

"His optic nerve was saved." Brinn started. "Your healer did a marvelous job before we got to him. We've begun preparing to enchant a prosthetic, but we're waiting for him to wake. Right now we need you to contact his guardians to make some decisions."

"What decisions?" he asked, looking away from the boy.

"The kind that family needs to make, Headmaster."

Dumbledore scowled lightly, "His guardians have transferred their guardianship to me, temporarily. I will make any decisions that need to be made."

"You're his guardian?" She asked, surprise clear on her tone. "I thought he was with family."

"And I thought gossip was for the columns." He said, "He has returned to us, and I have been given his guardianship. You can request the records if you need more than my word." She seemed cowed by his tone and he sighed, disappointed. "What decisions need to be made?"

She snapped back up and handed him the clipboard she'd been holding. "With one eye gone, even with our best prosthetic, his depth perception is going to be terrible at best. That is made worse by his naturally poor vision. It is my professional opinion that to give him the best shot at a full recovery, we need to correct his vision."

Dumbledore read the information off the parchment she'd given him but it was nothing he didn't already know. The potion was dangerous. "That is something I would have to discuss with Mr. Potter when he wakes. I wouldn't feel comfortable making this choice without his input."

"I expected nothing less. Mr. Potter should wake shortly, you're more than welcome to wait with him."

"Thank you, I think I will."

* * *

Harry opened his eye slowly. His head felt tight and his entire body ached. They were immediately noticeable and the discomfort brought back the memory of pain. He flinched as he sat up, his body protesting the sudden movement. It was only an ache though, and he could bear it.

"You're awake, Harry." He was suddenly very aware of his field of vision, as he turned his head to find Dumbledore sitting in a chair next to the bed he was in. "How are you feeling, my boy." He asked, shifting to the edge of the seat.

Harry looked around, turning his head fully to see the whole room. "Where are we?" He asked.

"We at Saint Mungo's. A hospital."

Harry's mind moved quickly. Why were they in a hospital. He shook his head, he already knew the answer. He'd been tortured by Voldemort. His heart skipped a beat. Voldemort was alive. "Headmaster, I have to tell you what – "

"There will be time for that, Harry." Dumbledore interrupted. "I have contacted Madam Bones. The Aurors have taken Professor Quirrell's body and they will be by this afternoon to speak to us. I think, until then, we can focus on you."

Harry shook his head, "No, there isn't time. It was Voldemort, Brian. Voldemort is alive, He was possessing Professor Quirrell."

Dumbledore stood and reached out for him, his hand landing on Harry's arm. "I am aware of who it was Harry. We will discuss it when Madam Bones arrives." Harry went to protest again, but Dumbledore squeezed his arm lightly, stalling his voice. "How are you, Harry? You have suffered a terrible experience, I have to know how you're feeling."

Harry sighed, resigning himself to waiting for Madam Bones. He felt fine. His body ached, but it was more than manageable. He recognized that half his face was covered in bandages but he didn't know how to feel about it. If the spell had been dark then the wound was likely cursed, meaning his eye was gone under the bandages. It was a frightening thought, but the pain was a memory, not something he was suffering currently, and with his mind clear he could see how it might affect him.

His vision was already poor, so he would likely need to adjust to the new handicap. "Can magic be used to replace eyes?" he asked, as the thought struck him.

"No, sadly," Dumbledore answered. "A device can be connected to the nerve, however, to regain your sight."

"A prosthetic," Harry said, adding that factor to his thoughts. A fake eye that could see. Would it be made to match his working eye, though, or would it see properly? It may be more a disability than a boon if one eye could see proper and the other clouded it.

"Harry, I can see your mind working, but you are ignoring my question. We have spoken about this before. It is impolite."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, refocusing on the now. "I feel fine. I want to know what happens next but I don't hurt anymore so I'm fine." Dumbledore's brow creased at his answer and he suddenly felt as though he'd said something wrong. "Is something wrong?"

Dumbledore stared at him for a long moment before nodding his head. "You'll forgive me if I am blunt."

"Of course."

"Yes, Harry, something is wrong. You are broken, my boy. You are so very badly broken. You were subjected to horrors none should suffer through and you say you are fine. I would have accepted very many different answers but not fine. It. . . It. . ." He floundered, staring at Harry. "It isn't right, that you can put it in the past, that you can ignore what has happened to you. Something is very wrong here, Harry."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, trying to work out a response that seemed appropriate. The man looked old and tired, and Harry was unused to the sincerity. "Oh." He said, finding nothing else. He knew he handled things differently than others, but it didn't seem wrong, or bad. He thought it made him more than a little stronger than those around him. Things didn't touch him quite as strongly, things didn't distract him or break his focus. "I. . . Didn't know that."

Albus dropped his head as he pulled back, retreating to the chair with a heavy breath. The room was quiet for a long time. It was an uncomfortable silence and Harry wasn't sure how to fix it.

"The Healer that fixed your eye wishes to correct the vision in your other," Dumbledore said, looking up again.

Harry latched onto the out, "That's possible?"

"Very much so," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked at the glasses that sat on the Headmaster's face. "Why do people still use glasses if we can correct it?"

Dumbledore laughed humorlessly, his energy gone, "It is expensive, to start. It also leans more toward dangerous than it does safe. You would be administered a potion," He started, knowing he would be asked, "and it would correct your vision. This is the easy part. If left unattended the potion can burn through the eyes, rendering you completely blind. A team of healers will work in tandem to counteract the potion almost as soon as it is ingested. If they are successful, your sight will be corrected, If they are not –"

"I'd go blind," Harry said. "Couldn't I just get a double prosthetic?"

"The potion would ruin the nerve," Dumbledore answered.

Harry frowned, "Would I be able to just get the prosthetic without the potion?" He didn't fancy the idea of being completely blind. Life was difficult enough with his glasses.

Dumbledore shook his head again. "No. You could technically get it, but the disorientation would be anything but minor. It has been reported as debilitating. The healer, Healer Brinn, feels it would be best to use the potion."

Harry closed his eye, thinking. Was it worth the risk? He glanced up, craning his head to see the headmaster. "It was Voldemort, tonight. It really was him, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Harry. I believe it was truly him."

"He's going to come after me again, isn't he?"

Dumbledore nodded quietly.

Harry breathed heavily. "Would leaving do any good. Could I go to the states, go to school there?"

"The blow you dealt him as a child was massive. I don't believe that you could run anywhere that he would stop trying to find you, Harry."

"Then we do the potion. I can't have this kind of handicap if he isn't going to stop."

Voldemort was a reality now, and the rage he felt when he'd first learned of the man burned in him. It was an ember, burning passively inside him. No longer was he a dead man that might haunt his dreams, he was a walking nightmare and Harry was unprepared.

"I will inform the healer," Dumbledore said, rising.

"Brian," Harry called, stopping him.

"Yes, Harry?"

"He caught me completely unprepared. I couldn't fight back at all. The only thing that saved me was my magic and I can't keep relying on it to save my life."

"You should not have to worry about losing your life, Harry."

"Well, I do," Harry said, gently lifting his hand to feel the bandages on his face. "Twice now, I've had to. Through some fluke of magic, I've survived. I need to learn how to protect myself. I can't believe that Voldemort is going to wait until I'm out of school to try again, wait until I'm actually trained."

"What would you have me do?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I plan on joining the dueling club with Profesor Flitwick, but I doubt that will be enough. I need useful magic. Magic I can use to protect myself, the girls. I have to be ready if this happens again."

* * *

Voldemort?" Amelia asked.

"Yes," Albus answered.

"He-who-must-not-be-named." Amelia reiterated.

"The very same," Albus answered again.

Amelia reached up, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that He-who-must-not-be-named managed to possess a teacher, get through the school's wards without raising any alarms, and then proceed to kidnap and torture Harry Potter."

"That summarizes what happened perfectly, actually." He said. "And it is very much what I expect you to believe. Further, It is my belief that he was the one that set the troll onto the school this last Holloween. If he had an intimate enough knowledge of the ward schemes to slip through them undetected while possessing the departed Quirinus, I have little doubt that he could bring a troll in."

"That's all well and good, but it's hardly something I can bring before the Minister." Amelia snapped. "Malfoy has him in his pocket, and the old families own the Wizengamot. Even in He-who-must-not-be-named is back, if he is genuinely back, I couldn't actually tell him. I'd be sacked for trying to incite panic before the day was out." She stood up and began pacing behind her desk. "Did anybody other than Mr. Potter see him while he had full control. Did anybody see anything?"

"No, unfortunately. I was with the Wizengamot, and Mr. Potter's friends were in the great hall. Nobody even knew something had happened until I returned to the castle."

She sighed roughly. "I can't bring this to the Minister. Even if we had actual proof."

"On the contrary, I had hoped that we could handle this, how is it said, 'in house'," Albus said.

"And what do you mean by that?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Dumbledore rose from his seat and withdrew folded parchment from his robes. "A report," He said, offering it to her. "It would need to be signed, of course, but it would indicate that Mr. Quirrell was behind all of the trouble we have had at Hogwarts this year."

Amelia read over the report, sending him a glare over the official Auror paperwork that he wasn't supposed to possess. "How does this benefit us at all, assuming that Mr. Potter wasn't confounded."

"It points out a very dangerous lack of funding to the DMLE," Dumbledore answered. "Troll's being brought into Britain and smuggled within her borders. Dark magic being practiced by school teachers. Brought before the Wizengamot, it would force the elected seats to push for a reworked budget."

"Would there be enough votes?"

"The old families would oppose, certainly," He said, "But if it was put in the Daily Prophet, if the people thought they were in danger, they would have to keep their opposition in the back rooms, and they'd likely vote for us just to save face. People like Mr. Malfoy only have so much leeway before they have to buy themselves more. He's been fighting to end the raids in knockturn ally for months now. If he were to oppose this, his actions would look. . . Questionable."

"So your plan is to wait for He-who-must-not-be-named to reveal himself?"

"An oversimplification, to be sure," he answered. "I believe Mr. Potter and if he is right then we find ourselves wholly underprepared. This," he waved at the paperwork she held, "Is the first step. Increase our forces, prepare for him, even if the upper echelons of our government won't. If Mr. Potter is wrong, if Mr. Quirrell simply confounded him, then we have still managed to increase our Aurors, which cannot be said to be a bad thing."

"No," She agreed. "It will be beneficial either way." She set the paperwork on her desk and fixed him with a look Albus knew all too well. "You did all this work for me, you plan to increase this departments funding. You've done too much, so tell me what you want."

He raised his hand to his heart, "You wound me, Madam."

"I am processing one too many revelations this morning, Headmaster, I don't want to play these games. Tell me what you want."

"Mr. Potter has professed a desire to join in your young Auror training program," Albus said, finished beating the bush. "He feels that Voldemort if he has returned, will continue to target him. His fear is not unfounded."

"That program is almost exclusively post-owl students. Their magic is mature enough to handle the stress of the routines we put them through."

"I am aware of the specifics. Are we in agreement?" He asked.

She waved her hand, surrendering, "Yes, fine. I'll have one of the cadets work with him till he's capable of more powerful spellwork. Is that acceptable?"

"Perfectly," Albus answered.

* * *

The procedure took place a week after Harry had arrived at the hospital. Healer Brinn had talked to him about the risks again and worked with him in designing his prosthetic. He'd leaned on the headmaster heavily for the enchantments to be put on his new eye. He wasn't an Auror, so many of the ones that he'd thought of were unavailable to him. He'd settled on a modification of the mage sight that would normally be placed on glasses. Dumbledore had talked it up, stating its usefulness in the study of magic. How curse-breakers used it to see wards and examine them. It'd won him over.

"Will I be able to deactivate it?" Harry had asked while they discussed it.

"No," Healer Brinn said, shaking her head. "Once the enchantments are tied into the eye's magic they'll always be active, otherwise the eye would shut off as well."

Harry looked to the headmaster, "How obscuring is the visible magic?"

"It can be a distraction if you're not using it. I imagine it would make it difficult to read as well, most of the tomes at Hogwarts have some charm work on them."

He pursed his lips, considering the downsides. "If you want the enchantment," Brinn said, "We could offer a self-sticking cover. Something to place over the eye to restrict the mage sight. You'd see normally with it on, though your field of view would be limited."

Another consideration to add. "Is the enchantment useful in dueling?"

He ignored the frown that the headmaster grew, "It is banned in all official tournaments. It offers a rather large advantage to those who learn how to decern spells based on the magic rather than the incantation."

"We'll do it then." He had told them.

The healers sent out the order that day, and given who he was, they'd told him it'd likely be in before he left the hospital.

It was all a very optimistic process, and Harry knew they were doing it to distract him from the risk that he would be facing. He didn't fight them as they brought him into a room with five healers, and Dumbledore held his hand as he drank the potion before they put him to sleep. He wanted to say that the whole thing was unnecessary, and he could do it alone, but the old man's presence calmed him down considerably.

Consciousness came suddenly, and he was instantly aware of light filtering through his eyelid. He opened it slowly, savoring the discomfort as he smiled.

He could still see. He wasn't blind.

He was so elated that he didn't immediately realize that he could see from his other eye. He reached up, feeling the small strip of leather that clung to his face, covering his eye. Whatever they'd spelled the patch with appeared black, almost undiscernable from being able to see nothing. The only difference was a minute glow. He peeled the patch off slowly and the room filled with color. Magic clung to every surface and it overwhelmed him. He brought the patch back up, feeling it grip his face again as the world returned to normal.

The door opened, and Dumbledore entered, Healer Brinn with him. "Harry." He said, surprise in his voice. "You're awake." He beamed.

Healer Brinn walked past him, her wand sliding out of her sleeve as she lifted it to cast. He restrained himself as the instinct to flinch away roared to life. His magic wasn't singing to him, healer Brinn was friendly. He wasn't in danger. "Everything is settling nicely," She said, pulling her wand away. "Have you tried to remove the eye patch yet?" She asked.

"Yeah, couldn't stand it though. Everything was shining."

she nodded, "Yes, it will take some time to grow accustomed to its use. I suggest you remove it, while you're here. It'll get easier with time."

Dumbledore walked around the other side of his bed. "Healer Brinn is absolutely correct. I was overwhelmed the first time I used it as well. I almost broke the glasses I was using in my hurry to remove them."

"Look this way," Brinn said, drawing his attention back to her. He followed her wand as she moved it back and forth. "Everything is coming back positive. You'll be fine to leave tomorrow. We're going to keep you tonight, just to make sure there are no problems." She tucked her wand back into her sleeve, "If you need anything let the nurse know. I'll be back in tomorrow before you leave. Make sure you take the patch off. It'll be a lot worse to adjust to it in Diagon Alley." with that she left, leaving the two men alone.

"The term ends Monday," Harry said.

"It does." Dumbledore agreed. "I assume you're wondering about your exams."

"I appear to have missed them." He said, a smiling wryly.

Dumbledore chuckled. "If only you were so lucky. Once everyone has departed on the express, Professor Flitwick will sit in with you while you take your exams. We will, of course, wait until you are feeling up to it."

"I'm ready. Whenever is best." He reached up and removed the patch again. The world was overlayed in color and he had to squint his eyes to begin adjusting.

"It does get easier," Dumbledore said, patting the edge of the bed.

"I certainly hope so. This is awful," Harry groused, still squinting. He looked at the headmaster. The man's magic was a bright gold, fitting the man well. "Will I be staying at the castle this summer?" He asked. He hadn't asked many questions about what Dumbledore was doing in regards to the Dursley's. He'd been told he wouldn't have to go back to them, and he trusted Dumbledore to find some place that would be better. Now that the end of the school year was imminent, the questions seemed more urgent.

"No, my boy, I think not. As wonderful as a summer in our library may sound, I would prefer it if you were among people your own age. I've made arrangements with two close friends. I knew them while they were in school, and I've personally worked on their wards. Their home should be a safe place for you to spend the summer."

"And they're not. . ." He trailed off, unable to actually say the words.

"No, Harry. They are not. They have seven children of their own, and I promise you that they are very kind."

Harry furrowed his brows, thinking about who he knew but he couldn't think of a family that large. His social circle was small though. "Who are they?"

"This is where we may find friction," Dumbledore admitted. "While Aurther and Molly are two of the kindest people I've met, I don't think you have had quite so pleasant experiences with their son, Ron."

"The Weasley's?" Harry asked, knowing only one Ron.

"Yes, Harry. The Weasley's."

"You're right." He admitted after a moment. "I don't know how kind I'll be able to be toward Ron. He put Hermione in that room."

"I am aware," Dumbledore said. "It was a minor factor, on the grand scale, but it is one I've considered. I had hoped it would be an opportunity for you to mend bridges. Ron isn't like you, Harry, he is less mature in many ways. It took him a good many nights with Professor McGonagall and hearing that Ms. Granger very nearly died for him to see just how poor a decision he made."

"And they have a large family?" Harry asked, moving ahead.

"Yes, though the two older brothers are out on their own. Percy is one of Gryffindor's prefects and Fred and George are two years above you. You know Ron, of course. Lastly, they have a daughter, Ginevra Weasley. She's a year younger than you, I believe."

"Okay," Harry said, nodding his head. "They're a magical family. Will I be able to use my wand over the summer?" He asked as the thought popped up.

Dumbledore laughed at his enthusiasm. "No, that is still quite forbidden. Ministry regulation and all that hoo-ha. Though I believe you'll be sufficiently busy."

Harry perked up at that, "Is there something you wanted me to learn?"

"Not me, no. I do remember your curiosity with Mr. Filtch over Christmas though. He is a rather crass fellow, I admit, but to my knowledge young Ginevra is much more approachable, and still very much a squib."

* * *

There it is, year one complete! Let me know your thoughts in the review section. It's right below this message. Go ahead. . . do it. It's right there. Right below this.

Peace out!


	7. Chapter 7

I apologize for the long wait. I found myself on a beautiful beach and couldn't drag myself away.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

"Transfiguration test number thirty-two." He said after he'd set up his little area in a sunny corner. His quill began writing as he placed a small rock on the table and cleared the books away from it. He pulled the patch off pointed his wand and called up his magic, a perfectly clear image forming in his mind as he did. He felt the magic leave him quickly and watched the glow settle over the rock.

He'd been working on this theory all year. It was simple, in concept at least, but the practicality of it was mind boggling. He watched as his magic coated the rock and reached out, filling the air around it and pulling in. A smile bloomed on his face as the rock seemed to shift and grow, doubling in size.

"Engorgio," Harry said as he spelled the rock again. The magic settled over the rock again, but this spell didn't reach out, it stretched what was already there. The light thinned as the rock grew.

A laugh bubbled up and with nobody to tell him to quiet down, it overtook him. Finally, after a full year, he had some measure of proof. All his other tests had been inconclusive just because he hadn't been able to watch the magic work. He hadn't known about mage sight, and the limited spells he knew couldn't give him the information he was seeking. Transfiguration altered matter at the atomic level, but it couldn't create new matter. It used whatever it could to complete the change, in this case, it used the nitrogen and oxygen in the air. It explained why conjuration was just an advanced form of Transfiguration, but none of the books he'd read had hinted at conjuration being anything other than creating something from nothing.

It wasn't though. It was still something.

He raised his wand and remembered Olivanders words. His wand was good for conjuration. He watched the magic work as he transfigured the air into a rock that was identical to the one he'd brought in.

Charms were still mostly a mystery. He understood how they worked as it was dictated by his teachers and the various professionals who had written his textbooks but understanding how something worked didn't really explain _how_ it worked. Engines made planes work, but he understood that planes fought against weight and drag with lift and thrust. He knew how they worked within the natural world.

"Preliminary testing shows that magic acts independently to perform the task as specified by the caster. With the intention of transfiguring the rock into a larger rock, my magic made use of the matter in the air to complete the task. When the engorgement charm was placed it performed a similar task but instead of creating more rock it stretched what was already there. Side note, the explosion caused by overuse of the engorgement charm may be caused by the tension created when the object is stretched too far. Working conclusion, transfiguration uses magic as a power source to force atomic reconstruction." He said to his quill. "Further testing is needed, specifically related to Gamp's principle exceptions, the specification of the task in relation to magical power, and sentience of magic after a spell is cast."

* * *

Come in, my boy," Dumbledore said with a bright smile. "I've been waiting for you."

Harry walked into the office at the welcome. "I've got everything packed up, Headmaster."

"Very good. We have a few things to go over before we make our way to The Burrow, which is the name of the Weasley's home. Please sit."

Harry walked over and sat down in the more cushioned seat. Dumbledore brought out several papers and laid them out in front of him. "What are these?" He asked, grabbing the paper with the ministry sigil stamped onto the front of it.

"These are the forms required to place you in a program run by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It's made to prepare students who are interested in joining the Auror Corps after they graduate for the rigors of the job." Dumbledore answered as he offered a pamphlet over his desk. Harry took it and looked at the man and woman posing in deep red robes. "It covers a large variety of self-defense courses meant for sixth and seventh-year students. Madam Bones has agreed to allow you to join this program over the summer months."

Harry flipped through the pamphlet quickly, not really reading it all. "Will I be able to actually use anything I learn there?" He asked. He knew he was still growing, and his magic wasn't as powerful as the upper years.

"Madam Bones has graciously offered one of her Auror trainees to assist you until you're more capable of higher level casting," Dumbledore answered.

"How much would this cost?"

Dumbledore chuckled lightly and Harry blushed. "No need to be embarrassed, my boy, It's a very good question. Hogwarts pays for its student's entry into the program, so long as certain in house requirements are met. While you are young, age is not a restricting factor, and Professor Flitwick has signed off on the appointment. With that in mind, we must fill these out, so that your place may be secured."

Harry followed Dumbledore as he led him through the process. It was just like filling out muggle enrollment forms, and he wasn't unfamiliar with the process. Still, it was good to go over it all with the headmaster. This was what he'd asked for in the hospital. This was professional defense training. He didn't know if he'd need it again anytime soon and he hoped that he didn't ever need it, but he was smarter than that. Voldemort had targeted him, for some reason, since he was a child. The monster had justified killing a child he'd never met, and now Harry had actively denied him the Philosophers Stone.

Thinking about the man had kept him up more than one night. Voldemort had been a scourge that some trick of magic had stopped. No man had stopped him. The Ministry had failed on every field and, from what information was available, they were very nearly overtaken by the man and his Death Eaters. That the monster was still alive, still out there, filled him with dread. It was something that was difficult to categorize as it filled him and phantom pain scratched across his face.

"I shall get these where they belong," Dumbledore said, drawing him from his thoughts. "The program begins the second week in July, I'm sure Mr. Weasley, the senior, will have no problem bringing you with him to the Ministry. With this out of the way, we can move onto our next goal of the day." He stood, and walked to the fireplace, taking a small pot off the mantle. "Are you ready, Harry." He said with a smile.

Harry rose and walked slowly to the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of powder out of the pot and stared into the fire. He was ready. The Dursley's were a chapter in the story of his life and that chapter was over. He was more than ready to put them in the past. "You said it was called the Burrow?" He asked, glancing to Dumbledore.

"I know you fully know that I did. Are we stalling?" Dumbledore asked with a raised brow.

Yes, he was stalling, but he didn't say it. Opening a new chapter wasn't always a good thing, and if he was going to compare his life to a book then he knew the genre would be horror. Murder as a babe, abuse as a child, and now he'd come full circle and the murderer had returned to finish the job. What did the next page hold? Was it a fresh new hell or would it be a calm that would inevitably be ripped away? He couldn't find himself being optimistic. He jerked his hand and threw the powder into the flame "The Burrow."

* * *

Ginny smiled as she walked with closed eyes. She could hear her brothers in the field behind the house. Ron was shouting at either Fred or George for sending a bludger his way but they were laughing too hard to properly hear his vow of vengeance. Ginny heard him, though, and a small chuckle broke the seam of her lips. The summer breeze pushed against her skin and she opened her eyes, looking to see her brothers flying over the hedge. She very much wanted to join them but contented herself to enjoying her walk. A glance backward showed her home standing half sideways. The odd structure only standing because of the magic that had helped make it.

Her mother was in the door, waving her over, and Ginny turned face. "What's up, Mum?" she asked when she got close enough.

"Be a dear and tell your brothers to come here. Professor Dumbledore should be getting here soon and I want all of you in here when he does."

Ginny shrugged and turned back to the field. She tried to project an air of indifference when she came up on them flying, "Oi!" She shouted up to them. "Mum wants us inside. Headmaster Dumbledore's coming soon." She said when she had their attention.

Ron was the first down. "I don't see why we need to be there." He grumbled.

"Someone's just upset,"

"That they have to share their room."

"Don't worry, Ronnikins."

"I'm sure he won't snore too badly."

Fred and George landed on both his sides, poking him back and forth as they spoke.

"Ge'off," Ron said with a huff, shoving George into Fred as he moved. "I don't care about that. I just wanna know why we're the ones putting him up. He's got all his girlfriends at Hogwarts, I'm sure they've got more room than we do."

"Ahh, should have caught onto that one, we should have," Fred said, his hand coming up to his chin.

"You're very right, brother of mine. We missed that one." George said, mimicking Fred.

"Harry's a popular young lad. All socially awkward and adorable."

"That hair's to die for." George agreed, "Won me over when I first saw it."

The walked up and pulled their red faced brother into a rough hug. "We're sure he'll notice you now, Ronnie. No need to be jealous of his little girlfriends."

Ginny valiantly restrained herself as Ron sputtered in their grip, fighting to get free. Fred and George erupted in giggles as they released him and walked off without another word. They patted her shoulders in sync as they passed her, their faces a mirror of her own barely restrained amusement.

"Jerks," Ron said as he righted himself.

"Well you can't blame them, you walked into that," Ginny said with a laugh.

"How do you even make that connection!" He barked.

His indignation made her laugh a bit harder. Ron's ears went red and he started to stomp off. Ginny grabbed his arm as he tried to pass and stopped him. "I'm sorry," She said, not looking particularly sorry. "You know they just want to rile you up. You let them get to you too easily."

He huffed again and she shoved him forward, beginning their trek back to the Burrow. "Did you ever get a chance to talk to him?" Ginny asked after a moment, letting Ron cool down.

Ron grimaced and shook his head. "No. Didn't think any of them would want to talk to me after the whole . . ." He trailed off. He didn't need to explain further though, Ginny had heard about the whole thing from her mother's rants. That had not been a good time to be Ron. "I wanted to say something." He added quickly, looking at her as they walked. "I just didn't really . . . I mean whats a guy supposed to say after that? Sorry I almost got you clobbered by a troll?"

"Well, I suppose you'll get the chance now," Ginny said.

"Mum's gonna make a scene of me apologizing. I just know she's gonna." Ron said pitifully.

She didn't envy him, but she couldn't feel particularly sorry for him either. He'd been a berk and it'd almost gotten four people killed. Sure, it wasn't really his fault, but he'd still been a berk.

"Come on, come on." their mother said, ushering them in. "Go get cleaned up and ready. They're supposed to be here soon and I don't want you looking like you just got done rolling around the yard." Molly pushed them towards the bathroom and picked at Ginny's hair. "Honestly, Ginny, You've got leaves."

Ginny rolled her eyes and let her mother guide her. She went to work with a brush after she and Ron were left alone. She idly wondered where Fred and George were but put it out of her mind. They'd show up. She focused on the mirror that she and Ron were sharing as she pulled the tangles out of her hair.

She knew, in the dark and cobwebbed part of her mind, that she was trying to pretty herself up for his arrival. She'd listened to bed time stories of him since she was little. Muggle schooling was dry and tedious and it expelled a lot of the more fantastical beliefs she had about what a child could do but she still dreamed of the fantasy hero from her stories. She wanted to look nice for him, even when she knew she shouldn't. A frown marred her reflections face as she thought about it.

She was a squib. She wouldn't go to Hogwarts in September. She'd get on a bus to Holsworthy and go to muggle school while he went back to learn magic. She shook herself and forced a smile. Ron shouldered her lightly and smiled at her through the mirror. Her smile became a little more real as she shouldered him back a little harder, garnering the indignant flush of red that their brothers teased him for so often, "See if I try to cheer you up again," He muttered as he left the room, smiling still.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Weasley."

She almost didn't hear it over the sound of the faucet, but she whirled around and left the bathroom, following the sound of the voice.

She saw him then. Harry Potter. Dumbledore was talking to her mother and he stood silently by the old man's side, waiting. He turned faced her fully. Ginny felt a little color drain from her face when the right half of his face was fully exposed. His cheek was scared up toward his eye, which was covered by a black eye patch. His scar was far worse than she imagined as well. There had never been any pictures of the wizarding worlds young hero and all the depictions of him showed him with a small lightning bolt scar on his forehead. The truth was much worse. A lightning bolt was a good a description as any. Red jagged lines of disturbed skin jutting down the right half of his forehead.

"Oh, Ginny, Come here." Her mother said, apparently noticing her. Ginny complied, walking mechanically up to them. "This is Ginevra, our youngest. Ginny, say hello."

"Hello." She parroted, feeling rather stiff now that Harry Potter was actually here

Dumbledore seemed to smile at her situation, and a swell of anger settled into her gut at the half grin that set on his lips. "It is impolite to not respond, Hary." He said after a moment. Harry's visible eye blinked rapidly and focused on her.

"Sorry," he said in a quiet voice. "I'm Harry."

Her mother patted her shoulder, "Why don't you go get your brothers, let's get everyone introduced."

"Okay." She said, still feeling stiff and quite thoroughly embarrassed. She hadn't expected his appearance to be so . . . striking, and she'd been caught very much by surprise when he looked right at her. She could only imagine how much of a fool she looked. She did her best to keep in off her face as she bound up the stairs, eager to run away from the situation.

"They're here," She said as she passed Ron's room, seeing him almost falling into his trunk.

"Already?" He asked, looking up in surprise.

"Yep, Mum wants us all downstairs." She left him to get ready as she continued up the progressively more narrow stairwell. She knocked lightly at the next door, unwilling to open the twins door and risk whatever trap they may or may not have set. "Mum says get downstairs." She said, not bothering to wait for them to open the door. She turned to find Percy walking out of his room. "Mum -"

"Wants us downstairs." He finished for her. "I heard."

* * *

Harry watched the Weasley's interact with each other with a detached focus. He wasn't a part of the family, and he felt decidedly out of place sitting at their table while they had dinner and squabbled back and forth.

Mr. Weasley had gotten home a short while after they'd arrived, and Harry had received the grand welcome. After all the introductions were out of the way, and his trunk had been unshrunk, Dumbledore had left. Harry admitted that he missed him already. He was uncomfortable among so many loud voices. The great hall was loud as a product of being made of stone and housing hundreds of students. It was a comfortable loud. This was discomforting because they were comfortable with each other and he could tell that they were unsure how to deal with him.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley said, over the twins voices. "The Headmaster said that you've moved several years ahead in your muggle schools before you came to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, thankful for the familiar topic. "Yeah, received my PhD." He answered.

Ginevra's eyes widened rather comically at the statement, and Harry laughed a bit. "That's rather high, isn't it?" Arthur asked.

"That's, like, the highest," Ginevra said. It was the first time he'd heard her voice properly since he'd arrived. While Ron and the twins went back and forth quite loudly, she had remained rather quiet after her introduction.

"It is the highest," Harry confirmed, mirth clear in his tone. "Um, a good reference would be a mastery."

Aurther and Molly's eyes widened as well, though not as amusingly wide as their daughters. "But you're so young." Molly said, "I thought the . . . Oh, Arthur what's the school called?"

"University." Ginny supplied before her father could answer.

"Thank you, dear, I thought the University was for adults."

"Normally, yes," Harry answered. "But it's only really that way because you have to have to have graduated from secondary school to enroll properly. I graduated when I was eight." The room was silent and Harry went red as the family stared at him. He imagined they all had some idea of what the muggle school system was like. Ginevra most likely went to a regular school so they understood exactly the level of accomplishment he'd made. He'd wanted to share it with people, but he didn't think it'd be quite so embarrassing.

"That's amazing!" Arthur said after a moment.

The embarrassment faded as something new formed in him. He recognized it for what it was, but he couldn't properly place it. He felt pride. He was proud of what he'd accomplished. He always had, but not many people really knew what he'd done, and even fewer had reacted to the news with such vigor. He was proud of what he'd done again and he was pretty sure that they were too.

* * *

"Come on."

Harry looked up at the sound of Ginevra's voice. The summer evening had been beautiful so he'd taken a book out to the back porch to read. He hadn't expected to be disturbed. While Mr. And Ms. Weasley had been welcoming enough, the children hadn't opened up quite as fully. Ron he understood. He wasn't exactly eager to cross that bridge yet either. The twins had greeted him with nearly the same enthusiasm as their father, though they seemed to disappear as soon as they'd been able. Percy hadn't said anything beyond a hello before he'd vanished as well.

He supposed it was normal. He didn't expect them to change their schedule to accommodate him.

"Get it over with and it'll be done." He heard Ginevra's voice from inside the house. A small sigh escaped his lips as he went over the possible options.

Harry put his bookmark in and shut the book, looking up expectantly as the girl ushered her brother onto the porch with them. Harry waited, saying nothing as the boy walked up to him, sending a small glare at his sister as he passed her.

Ron took a breath before meeting his eye. "I wanted to say that I was sorry." He said in a rushed breath.

Harry met Ron's gaze and the boy flinched away. "I'm not really the one that needs apologizing to," Harry said after a moment. "Hermione certainly is. Probably Su and Susan as well."

Ron still couldn't look him in the eye and Harry wondered briefly if he was intimidating. Ron seemed intimidated now.

"I'm gonna apologize to them too." He said shakily. "I just didn't know how to start, or what ta' say."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I wasn't the one you hurt. When you've talked to them I'll forgive you."

"But-"

"No buts," Harry said, cutting him off. "Look, I don't particularly care what you did." He admitted, "Hermione does though. She cared enough to spend most of the day upset about it. I care about Hermione, so when she's satisfied with your apology, then I'll be satisfied. Until then just leave me alone, because I'm going to be on her side, and she really doesn't like you right now."

Friends stuck by friends. It was a simple rule that everything said was true. It didn't seem so true outside of literature, but he'd made it this far by following it.

Ron's face was a little red, but he suspected that was just a natural reaction for the boy. He'd gone red more than a few times over dinner over something or another. He nodded though. "Okay, could you send a letter for me?"

"I think it may take a more personal touch." Harry said, "But I could send a letter if you want."

Ron nodded again and left. Harry didn't mind the abrupt exit. Their conversation was over. Whatever the redhead did now was on him. If he apologized to Hermione and she accepted it then he'd accept it. As much as he disliked the boy, it was mostly because his friend had been hurt by him. He did seem to understand he'd been wrong, and Harry supposed that was important for his level of maturity, but he simply couldn't find the necessary willpower to care about the boy one way or the other.

"Our Mum would have made a thing out of it if he didn't at least try," Ginevra said. She walked fully onto the porch and leaned against one of the supports.

"It's fine." He waved off, more interested in her than the entire situation with her brother. He looked at the girl before him. She was a squib and that made her extremely interesting, far more interesting than her brother was capable of being. How to approach her though.

"Come on Ronnikins,"

"We weren't done."

The twins pushed through the door dragging Ron behind them as they went. One of them stopped as they passed, pulling the others to a stop. "Any interest in Quidditch, Harry." Twin one asked. Harry didn't know which it was and he was hesitant to ask for clarification. He knew about their reputation and he wasn't keen on giving them any sort of opening.

"It'll be great fun," Twin two said

"And Ron needs all the help he can get!" The first barked out before the pair broke down into a fit of giggles.

Harry smiled despite himself as Ron turned red yet again. He shrugged his brother's hands off his arms, "I don't need any help." He said sourly, glaring at them.

"Come off it, Ron," Ginevra said without any real heat. "Harry's our guest after all."

Ron frowned before glancing at him. "You can come. If you want, that is." He said after a moment. "They're just gonna try to knock me off my broom though. Not much actual Quidditch."

"Oh, don't be like that, brother dearest."

"We're helping you practice!"

* * *

Quidditch was horrible

He hadn't thought it would be overly difficult and he'd been wrong. Staying balanced on the little twig of wood was a singularly difficult task and Harry's abdomen and thighs were burning in protest as he flopped off the broom, onto his knees.

Ron and the twins were still flying, the twins batting the ball back and forth between each other in an effort to hit their brother. Harry hadn't thought much about it originally but now he saw the display of dexterity and fitness that it was. He was not fit. It'd never really been an issue before. He'd always been thin because he ate when he was able and often forgot to while he was submerged in the study of something.

Thin was not fit though, and he was feeling the difference clearly.

He heard Ginevra laugh as he rose on wobbly legs and hobbled over to her at the edge of the small field.

"Have you never flown before?" She asked as he dropped down a little too roughly.

"Only once." He said as he laid back on the grass, no longer trying to support his meager weight with sore muscles. "There was a flying class at Hogwarts. We didn't stay up for long though."

"Well, there goes my mental image of you." She said with a dramatic sigh.

Harry chuckled at that. "Have I failed to live up to your expectations?" he asked glibly.

"Oh horribly. You're short" She said, a small grin fighting its way onto her face.

"You're not exactly the pinnacle of height yourself, you know." He bit back as he tried to prop himself up on his elbows. His abdomen clenched at the action and he gave up, plopping back down again.

She laughed again and shook her head. "Well I'm a girl, aren't I. We're allowed to be short. You're a boy, just for starters. Just think of all the little girls that are waiting to get to Hogwarts so they can marry you. They'll be crushed."

"I think I'll hold off on the married part for a while, yeah." he said.

She shrugged a little and laid back in the grass with him. He glanced at her and saw that her face was red, like her brothers. It flushed through her cheeks and climbed her ears. He swallowed "Are you one of those disappointed girls?" He asked with more confidence than he felt.

She shrugged again. "I think half the girls in Britain grew up on Harry Potter stories. I was never going to go to Hogwarts so I never made any wedding plans."

"Because you're a squib?" He asked lightly. He doubted he'd get a better segue into the subject and beating around the topic for a week was just unappealing.

She frowned and nodded. "Yep." She said with a cynical breath. "No brooms or magic for me." Harry tried to respond but paused. He didn't know if he'd offended her by asking or it was just a sensitive topic. "I don't want your pity though," She said before he could decide. "You've gone through school, through university even. You know better than anyone that I still have a future."

"That's an incredibly mature outlook." He said, genuinely surprised.

"I didn't even know I was different until my Mum and Dad sat me down and told me there was something wrong with me. That I wasn't going to have magic like the rest of my family, like the rest of my friends. They told me that I could never do the amazing things that they could do and that if I ever wanted a chance being normal it'd have to in the muggle world. That's a grow up or fail situation if there ever was one," She said with a forced laugh.

Harry could see the wet shine in her eyes and he briefly wondered where the girl that had locked up at the sight of him not hours before had gone. He certainly didn't mind this version. He'd grown up faster than he should have and he appreciated the company of somebody who had some semblance of an understanding.

"I'm lucky though." She said after a moment of silence. "A lot of pureblood families hide their squibs away and never speak of them, much less see them. My family didn't send me away and they're as supportive as they know how to be."

"Your Dad did seem pretty enthusiastic about you going to school," Harry said, trying to catch the upswing of her mood.

"He thinks muggle technology is the greatest thing ever." She said. "He doesn't understand a lick of it though. He still calls a television a telablibion. I think I've corrected him twice on just that one already."

Harry laughed at the butchery, "He's not wrong, at least," Harry said, "Misspoken as he is, televisions are fantastic. Just a quick glance tells you how far ahead muggles are." His mind wandered to his thesis. In retrospect, his entire thesis was about transfiguration and, while it would be years upon years before it was any sort of feasible, muggles would eventually be able to use it.

"They've done amazing things, no question. You're muggle raised though so you understand, at least, a little." She looked at him for the first time since she'd laid back and he could see it in her eyes. "Magic is amazing," she said quietly.

He nodded silently. Magic was amazing. For all, he knew about muggle technology and the muggle world he also knew that he'd never really go back. He'd go back to school, sure. He liked to learn and the divide of worlds wouldn't stop that, but that was superficial. A full year hadn't passed since he received his letter and he already considered himself more a wizard than a muggle. "I like to learn about the different kinds of magic." He said after a while.

"Rubbing it in my face?" she asked without any real malice.

"No, I'm saying that the state of being a squib is interesting to me and I'd like to learn more about it."

"So you're saying you're interested in me?" She asked, a sly grin forming on her face. He was happy to see it.

"Very interested." He answered trying to match her grin.

"You hear that, Freddie,"

"I did, Georgie."

"You hear that, Ron?"

"What?" The youngest said, staring at everything happening with his mouth hanging slightly.

"As eloquent as ever, dear brother."

"Like a regular wordsmith, he is."

* * *

Arthur and Molly had been more than wonderful in the weeks he'd been there. Molly was a bit of a stickler, he'd noted, but she was also a mother of seven so he gave her a bit of leeway on the matter. Arthur was just enthusiastic about everything. Nothing seemed to get the man down and his mood tended to be infectious. They made the burrow feel like a home for him, and it was wonderful.

Fred and George teased him incessantly. Ginevra, or Ginny, as she repeatedly insisted he call her, had laughed about the whole thing but he found it rather embarrassing. He'd never had siblings, because Dudley Dursley hardly counted, so he had nothing to compare the situation to. Ginny said it was just their way of showing affection and if he fought them on it they'd make it even worse. Better to accept it and let them get it out of their system.

They didn't get it out of their system though.

It was quickly clear to him that while Ginny didn't like being a squib she had accepted it and was fine letting him question her up and down. She'd grown up with the twins, though, and he could see their influence. She baited him constantly and the twins heard him saying something and took it out of context to terrorize him. It was exhausting and sometimes frustrating, but he found himself laughing at their insinuations.

To himself, of course. They couldn't see it or it'd just be another bullet in their gun.

"Ready, Harry?" Arthur asked as he picked up his suitcase.

Harry hopped up off the couch and nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be." He said before a yawn overtook him.

"Best get that out of your system quick," Arthur said with a chuckle. "They'll wake you up if you're not up and ready for them."

"Well, hopefully, they'll go easy on my first day." He responded, not at all ready to be awake. He could wake up early if he had to. It had never been a problem and he doubted it would be in the future, but damn the person that asked him to be happy about it.

Arthur hummed to himself as he walked through the fire and Harry shook himself a bit before following. He was four or five years younger than all the other applicants and he just knew that Dumbledore had done something to get him into the program, the lease he could do was try to make a good impression.

Arthur led him through the lifts to level two and brought him to the small room filled with people he knew. Their names were lost on him but he knew their faces. Arthur had to leave, needing to get his own job, and Harry waved him off, thanking him before he left, before finding a seat for himself. He felt the eyes that were on him, and he heard the hushed whispers asking why he was there. It was inevitable, really, and he ignored it in favor of pulling out a charms textbook. Transfiguration was his favored subject, by far, but charms was an irritating challenge to learn and he liked the difficulty.

It was ten minutes later that a line of people in red cloaks walked in. The eight of them stood in front of the small group of kids in a line as another person walked in. "My name is Amelia Bones." She said, stopping at the small desk in front of the Aurors. "I'm the head of the department of magical law enforcement and I'm the head of this program. You've all been selected because you've proven that you, at the very least, have the potential to join the smallest and most elite sect within this department. Our Aurors are hand picked and we only accept the best." She looked around the room, her eyes lingering on him before she walked over to the first man in red.

"These are your trainers this summer. They've generously offered their time to help you. They will give you their very best and I expect you to do so in return. If you feel like you can't give your very best I suggest you leave before you're asked to." Her wand was in her hand suddenly and she waved in a wide arc. A small packet appeared in front of each student. Harry glanced at it briefly, finding his name missing from the list of students. "These Aurors will introduce themselves in a moment. Find your name on the list and follow your instructor to your training areas, you begin immediately. Potter, follow me."

Harry looked up at his name suddenly being called out. The woman was already walking out of the room and he scrambled to grab his bag and catch up to her. "Your Headmaster pulled a lot of strings to get you into this program, Mr. Potter." She said, not stopping as she did. "I won't lie and say I like it but what's done is done. You're going to be held to the same standards as your peers, if not on an adjusted scale," she said with a small scoff. "If you can't give your trainer your best then I expect you to excuse yourself and save us the trouble."

"Yes, Ma'am." He said, matching her fast pace as best he could.

She led him through the busy halls and through a large open area filled with desks that were filled by people in green robes. She lifted her wand to her neck, a small spark of magic jumping off it as she spoke. "Cadet Tonks." Her voice boomed off the walls.

He heard a small crash as he looked around the room. "Here, Ma'am!" came a muffled shout. He found the person standing up from one of the desks in the back. She was hard to miss, he supposed, with bright blue hair. There had been the oddball student that had dyed their hair an odd color while he'd been in school. Universtiy had less restrictive rules on the matter and they were still in their rebellious stage. The cadet ran up to them, taking great care as she passed each desk.

Amelia sighed rather desperately, "You've been personally recommended, Cadet Tonks. Come with me." Harry ran a little to keep up with Amelia's sudden departure and he was glad to see Tonks do it as well. They walked further into the department and Harry had to wonder how large each floor was. They arrived at a door labeled with a large brass twelve. "These are our training rooms, Mr. Potter. The rooms are magically expanded and should be more than sufficient for any spell work you manage over this summer. Cadet Tonks, Auror Moody has recommended you to be Mr. Potters trainer this summer. I expect you'll be up for the task."

The girl, because she very much looked like a girl next to Madam Bones, gave an owlish look before nodding suddenly. "Yes, Ma'am. Of course. Is there anything specific that Moody wanted me to go over with the snot?"

What could be considered a smile passed over Madam Bones' lips for barely a second, "Ground up, Cadet Tonks. Start him from the ground up. Report here for the next five weeks. Your other duties will be covered while you work with Mr. Potter."

"Yes Ma'am," Tonks said, smiling widely.

Madam Bones looked back to him, "Do well, Mr. Potter, you're here and someone else isn't. Don't squander this opportunity." She turned, at that, and walked down the hall leaving him alone with Cadet Tonks.

"Don't mind her," Tonks said, punching his shoulder. "She's always like that. Come on, let's get this ball rolling."

* * *

Give me all of your reviews!

Or don't, it's not like I can sneak into your house at night and write all manner of horrible things on your face in permanent marker . . .

Peace Out!


	8. Chapter 8

Views at this point – 30,887 –

At a staggering, personally at least, number of 10,489 words, this chapter is the longest yet! It took a while to write because of how I'm trying to work in everything. I don't want to move too quickly but I also don't want to bog down the plot with the unnecessary dribble. I think I've found a decent balance but I suppose you'll all tell me one way or another.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

"When will we be working on something more practical?"

"We're doing remedial lessons until you're up to snuff, short stuff."

Harry sighed as he sat on the small mat. "Are the lessons really remedial if I have yet to learn the material?" He asked, mostly to himself. In the very long week, since he'd begun spending his mornings with Tonks, he'd learned very little. She mostly sat with him and talked while he internalized his magic. Occlemency, she called it, and it was the art of defending one's mind. He'd been intensely worried when he learned that there was magic that allowed one to read minds, but Tonks had allayed his fears, explaining the rareness of a person who could actually use the magic. The reason they were learning occlumency was its additional benefits.

His memory was already fantastic. Eidetic, according to some, but any improvement was still an improvement.

"Irrelevant," Tonks answered immediately. "Are you ready?" she asked, lifting her wand.

"As I could possibly be." He answered.

"That's no spirit." She said, "This is advanced stuff. I don't even think there are books on this crap at Hogwarts."

Another sigh escaped his lips and he bit his tongue lightly to stop it from fully escaping. He was sighing a lot around her. "No matter how advanced this magic is, and no matter how prepared I am for your attack, my magic is not strong enough to do it properly or to stop you from breaking into my mind."

"God, spare me from whiny children," Tonks muttered. "Do you know how magical power works? You only need to stop me one time, then we move on. I know you can do it."

Harry bit his lip, stopping another sigh from forming. "I think I have a fairly decent understanding of magical power. You're magic is more mature than mine, how could I possibly hope to stop you?"

Tonk's hand came up to rub her face as her hair turned red, her metamorphmagus power reacting to her clear frustration. He was extraordinarily interested in her gift, nearly as much as he was interested in Ginny. They were oddities of magic, and they were fascinating. Tonks wasn't nearly as open about his curiosity as Ginny was though.

"Magical power is about the amount of magic you're able to put behind a spell, right." She said slowly.

"Yes, I am aware."

"I'm going to use you as target practice, shortie." She bit out before taking a calming breath, "As you get older, and your magic sets into your body you gain better control of it. It becomes more natural to use and thus you have to use less to accomplish the same tasks that once took up a lot."

"Wait, what is this now?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling out of his depth. He knew a lot about magical theory, but this hadn't been brought up before. It talked about the general strength of magic and its application in spell work. He knew enough to gauge where he was in comparison to somebody like Hermione, who's magic was growing stronger exponentially, but he hadn't heard about his.

"Ha! Finally, something you don't know." She rocked a little on her side of the mat while smirking at him. "Yeah, you get older and magic gets easier. Problem is most people don't notice it so they keep casting with the same amount of magic, so the spells get stronger and it's arbitrarily labeled as them being stronger. It all comes down to control. You control how much magic you use for a spell, then you control how strong that spell is. There's hardly ever a need to full blast a levitation spell, most people still do it though, because they don't know how to control their magic. That's what occlumency is for. It's one of the first steps in learning how to control your magic."

"How many steps are there?" He asked. This was all new information and he wanted to get as much as he could.

Tonks shrugged, "It's different for each person. Some people do it almost unconsciously so it doesn't take them long to get it once they start to get a feel for doing it on purpose."

"So people like you, because you're a metamorphmagus?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Control was always a big thing growing up. If I don't pay attention my body just does whatever it wants. Only took me a month or so to get to a good point with control."

He wondered about the readings he was getting from Hermione then. They said she was getting stronger much faster. Did that mean that her magic was just settling faster and she had no control over it? "Is there anything written about this at all?" He asked.

"My teaching not good enough for you?" she asked sarcastically. He gave her a flat look and she laughed, "I'm sure there is somewhere. Nothing either of us might have access to but I'm sure it's there. Enough blabbing, I'm getting paid to train you here, not talk you to death."

"I learn better by understanding what I'm doing." Harry said, "If you'd explain it to me better I'd get it faster."

Tonks rolled her eyes and lifted her wand, "If I cast my spell as lightly as I can, and you bring up your walls, who's gonna win?" she asked, ignoring him.

"I would." He said, still trying to absorb this new information. "Why isn't this more widely publicised? Why haven't I read anything about it?"

Tonks groaned. "Ministry censorship, probably. A lot of the in depth stuff is for top eyes only. Auror's get a lot of leeway because we're the ones dealing with dark magic and we need to know more to stop it from spreading about. Can we get on with this now? You were the one asking when we could move forward not ten minutes ago."

"Yes, but now I'm actually learning something new and I'm interested."

"You are the most frustrating eleven-year old I've ever met."

"I turn twelve next week." Harry quipped back.

* * *

It was like a door had been opened in his mind. He became more aware of his magic as it moved through his body and as it exited his wand. He understood the more delicate purposes of the control exercises that Quirrell . . . or Voldemort, he realized, had been teaching him. It was a disturbing thought, but the exercises put him in a place that Tonks was able to move into actual spell work quickly. There were three weeks left of the program and his birthday had arrived.

He didn't know if the Weasley's would do anything. He'd entertained the idea that they wouldn't know when his birthday was but that was quickly discarded. Everyone knew when his birthday was and it was unlikely that he'd be able to spend it as he had grown accustomed to. He still fled on the day. He woke up earlier than usual and trudged out of bed, moved through the empty house and out into the tall grass near the field. The sun rose quickly and he felt a twinge of guilt as he heard Molly call his name into the yard, a touch of panic in her voice.

These people weren't like the Dursleys.

They cared.

He wasn't theirs. He was just a stray they'd taken in because Dumbledore had asked but they still cared. Maybe not as much as they cared about Ron or Ginny, but he could still feel it when Molly asked about his day when he and Arthur came home or when Arthur got into discussions with him about muggles.

"Found you," Ginny said, poking her head through the grass suddenly.

He smiled, ignoring his suddenly rushing heart, and grabbed the shoulder of her sundress, pulling her into the little flat area he'd made for himself.

"Gosh." she said, righting herself and straightening her dress, "You could be a little more gentle with a girl."

"You tried to sneak up on me, what did you want me to do?"

She laughed a bit and dropped back into the grass, laying next to where he sat. "What are you doing out here all alone on your birthday?" She asked, ignoring his question.

"Contemplating life." He said simply.

"Aren't you a little young to be so philosophical?" She asked.

"Aren't you a little young to know what I meant?" He asked back.

"Touche." She grumbled lightly. "Still, what's got you so introspective."

"Big word."

"I turn eleven next month, gotta start acting grown up and shit."

"I didn't know cursing was part of being grown up."

She shrugged and finally looked at him. "You're avoiding the question. What's up?" He supposed it was his own fault that she could cut through his countering without a thought. She was easy to talk to, and he didn't have to try to act like he was a child. Su expected a certain level of playfulness from him that he found hard to muster up, and Susan was a gossip. Hermione didn't expect much from him, and he supposed if he got enough one on one time with she'd be able to see through him as well, but school was busy, and there were always people. "Don't zone out on me, Harry."

He smiled, "Dumbledore does the same thing." He said. "He just tells me I'm being rude though."

"It is a little rude," she agreed, "something's obviously on your mind though."

He gave a little sigh, more of a show of reticence than anything else, "You family is wonderful." He said. "I don't know how to be around people who actually want me to be apart of their day like your parents do. I've never had that kind of relationship with an adult and I needed to get away from it all for a bit."

"Didn't you stay with your aunt and her family?" She asked quizzically.

He nodded. "They didn't really want much to do with me." He admitted.

He knew that there was shame in his voice. He knew it and he tried hard to keep it out but he failed, and he knew that Ginny heard it. "Harry . . ."

"It's not important." He said, cutting off anything she might say. "I'm just trying to figure out this new dynamic and my birthday has been a me day for the last, what, four years," he said, thinking back. "I just spend the day doing things for myself. No books, no projects. Just trying to make me happy outside of everything else. But, now your family is here."

Ginny, thankfully, nodded and looked back up to the clouds. "I guess I can see how that might be difficult," she admitted after a moment of silence.

Harry smiled lightly and scooted forward a little, laying himself down next to her. "It's a nice day." she hummed in acknowledgment but stayed silent. They stayed there a while, and Harry didn't notice when he pulled out his wand, playing it between his fingers unconsciously as he enjoyed the breeze. "Have you ever held a wand?" he asked when he noticed it was there. He remembered his first experience with a wand. It'd been liberating, to say the least. Could squibs feel the connection that wands tried to forge or were they as dead to the magic as muggles?

"No," She answered. "Mum and Dad wouldn't let me when I was little, scared of me blowing a wall out or something," she said with a chuckle. "When I was older there just didn't seem much of a point. They're just sticks to me, fancy sticks, but just sticks. Sticks filled with disappointment and depressing thoughts."

"Want to?" He asked, holding the tip and offering her the handle.

"Are you asking me to handle your wand, Mr. Potter?"

"Sex jokes?" he asked blandly, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Muggle school can teach you all manner of things." She said with a smirk.

He opened his mouth and stopped before letting out a quiet laugh and nodding, "I really have no argument for that."

"I didn't think you would." She said before looking at the offered wand, "Well, since you asked so nicely I can hardly refuse." She reached out and took the wand, holding the handle and raising her arm up toward the sky. "Vespertilio Dolum," She said as she moved the wand in a flourish. Nothing happened and she gave a defeated sigh before lowering it, running her fingers over the shaft and tracing the runes that lined it with her fingertips."It's very pretty." She said after a moment "It was fun to pretend for a moment, at least." She said, handing it back.

"Didn't feel anything?" He asked as he slid the and back into the holder he'd received from Tonks.

She shook her head. "Nope. As enjoyable as playing with your wand was, I didn't' feel any tingling anywhere."

"You have a problem."

"We all have problems." She said with a grin.

"It's almost like a hum. A vibration underneath your skin," Harry said, choosing to ignore her. "I didn't really feel it until the first time I held a wand. After that, I could always feel it."

Ginny made a noise of acknowledgment again but didn't try to continue the conversation, and for a time, again, they stayed silent, just laying in the grass and looking at the sky together. Harry broke the silence again, "Could I look at you." He asked.

"I do believe you do that at least once a day."

He rolled his eyes, "I have a fake eye." he said instead of commenting. "Whoever made it enchanted it with a variation of the mage sight charm so it lets me see magic. It can be more than a little disorienting, hence the patch." He said, motioning to his face.

"How'd you lose your eye?" She asked.

Harry grimaced slightly. His gut reaction was to push off the question, but trust begat trust, and Ginny had been more than upfront with him about everything to do with her being a squib and he knew that was a sensitive subject for her. "Our defense teacher was possessed this year."

"Ron said something about that," Ginny said, her eyebrows scrunching together. "The stuttering guy, right?"

"Yeah. The spirit possessing him was after an artifact Dumbledore was keeping in the school. It dragged me down into the chamber the artifact was being kept in while Dumbledore was at the ministry. It . . . wasn't kind." He said instead of elaborating further. He could feel the phantom sting on his cheek and wanted to be done with the story. He reached up and scratched his scar on his cheek, trying to settle the itch that had formed.

Ginny didn't say anything but he suddenly found her sitting up very close to him, leaning over his torso to look at his face. "I'd been curious." She admitted. "I wanted to ask right away but I figured it'd be rude. Can I?" she asked, reaching toward the patch.

"Curiosity killed the cat." He said.

"Muggle school, Harry. Satisfaction brought it back."

Harry tsked, but relented. "Go ahead, You'll have to give me a minute to adjust. The sudden gradient of color is off-putting."

She reached down slowly, pulling on the patch until it unlatched from his face. "What kind of color do you see?" She asked.

He shrugged as the colors surged through his eye lid. They were dulled, but not by enough. "All sorts. Different magics have different colors and patterns. Nothing concrete. It's . . . difficult to explain actually." He slowly opened his eye and looked at Ginny.

"It almost looks real." She said, absently as he stared at her. Harry didn't hear her though. She was radiant. Red magic danced across her skin like a contained inferno. It was wrapped around every part of her could see and it baffled him with its beauty. How was this the magic of a squib? How could magic so alive be inert? She smiled a little, "Well, how do I look with your magic eye?"

He stalled for an answer, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "Magical." He said in a breath. Red flushed across her face but he ignored it as he scooted back a little and sat up with her, trying to get a better look. "Your entire body . . . It's astonishing."

Her eyebrows knit together and some the color faded. "What are you seeing?" She asked.

Harry shook his head, "Your magic," He started. "It's there. I mean. It's more – " He reached up and grabbed at the air, " – It's more substantial than any witch I've seen. I don't understand."

This radiant magic was a squib. What did muggles look like? He found himself wanting to know in the light of this discovery. If squibs had this kind of magic inside them, did muggles too? It would make sense that they did, but if it was so easy to prove that muggles weren't so different from wizards where did the stigma come from.

Frustration took him as he realized he wouldn't know until he got to look at a muggle.

"Harry," Ginny said, giving him a small shake. "I really need you here right now."

"Huh," He looked at her again. The fire was twisting as warping and he knew what was wrong. He could see it in the shapes.

"What are you saying, Harry?" she asked gently. The infirm quality didn't fit her voice and he found himself disliking it.

"I see magic." He said. "Your body is alight with it in a way I hadn't expected. It's really beautiful, actually." The red sprung across her face and he watched her fire settle a little. "Now you blush." He said wryly.

The red grew and she pouted a bit. "Well, I'm used to the dirty. Muggles have no sense of decency."

He smiled and reached out for her hand. "Can I try something," he asked.

She looked at his hand before meeting his eye again and grabbing hold. "Be gentle."

Harry took a deep breath to fight his laugh. "Let me know if you feel anything." He said, "Anything at all." She rolled her eyes and nodded, squeezing his hand. Harry shut his eyes and sunk into his mind, filtering out his stray thoughts as he delved into his occlumency. He reached out to his magic and slowly opened his eyes again, looking at his hand and seeing the blackish gray that was his magic wrapping around the little inferno that was Ginny's. "I can't do wandless magic yet," he said in a whisper. "But I . . . can . . . do . . . this . . ." He pushed on his magic and watched it press against hers.

She fidgeted against his hand and looked up, her eyes wide. "Harry, I – "

"Shh," He shushed, as he focused. A wand made manipulation of magic infinitely easier and it took all his focus to try to warp it to his will. His magic bent and twisted as he slowly wrapped it around her hand and started a slow back and forth, coaxing her magic into movement.

Ginny breathed deeply as he worked. "Harry, this is . . ." He looked up and saw her jaw hanging slightly as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "This is magic." She said quietly.

He nodded slowly, smiling at the glee he saw in her eyes. "Can you feel how I'm moving it." He asked as he resumed the motion. Just a simple back and forth, something small.

"Yeah." she said, pursing her lips "Yeah, I can feel it."

"I'm gonna slow down a little. Try to grab hold of that feeling. Try to do it yourself."

He relaxed his magic a little and slowed the motion. They sat in the tall grass, staring each other in the eye as he moved. He didn't know how long they sat there, listening to each other breath and feeling the invisible force, but before long he felt the smallest movement. A force against his own and he saw a smile flare on Ginny's face. "I did it!" She shouted, her glee unrestrained.

"You did it." He said back, his own smile matching hers. He pulled back his magic and let it rest. He felt the smallest twinge of her magic pressing back. So small it was barely there but it was, in fact, there. "You did it." He repeated.

She jumped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as she all but tackled him to the ground. "I did it." She repeated again and again, rocking herself in his arms. He felt his shirt dampen but he just hugged her back, happy to let her have a moment. She pulled back, smudged tears on her face, but smiling never the less. "Harry, that was . . . I don't even know how to – "

"It's okay." He said. "I understand." and he saw that she knew he did. He saw the way her shoulders relaxed and her pupils grew. He supposed he should have seen it coming, but he was lost in his mind again, falling away with barely a moment notice as he thought about what the next step would be. she fell against him again, her lips fumbling against his in a sloppy, teary kiss. His eyes widened as she did it and before he could react she pulled away, still smiling.

"Always dreamed of doing that." She said, "Never thought I'd get the chance, never thought I might be able to do it." Harry stared at her, his mind blanker than it had ever been as he looked at her, completely at a loss. "Can we do this again?" She asked, reaching out and grabbing his hand. There wasn't any feeling this time, and he could see the look of consternation quickly filling her features.

"Yes." He said, pushing all thoughts away as he focused on what he knew. "We can do it again. As many times as it takes for you to do it on a whim."

Her smile returned and, as if she was hit by a sudden realization, her face flushed fully and her eyes widened. "I . . . I kissed you." She squeaked.

Harry took another breath before he nodded. "You did." Her mouth hung open as she floundered. Harry chuckled lightly and started to stand up. "Come on, we've been out here long enough and I think your mother's gonna have kittens if we're missing any longer." He said, giving her an out. She clearly wasn't ready to deal with it and he didn't feel particularly up to the task either.

His birthday, though, he was sure of. Having people was nice, and he didn't want to vanish on them.

* * *

Harry sighed as he laid back into the too small bed. A lot of things at the burrow were too small. Not out of any attempt to make them so, but more a matter of necessity. The walls and supports were so heavily enchanted that adding any sort of space enhancement could very well destabilize the entire thing.

It was still comfortable though. Nothing was _too_ small and everything had a place. With their eldest out of the house, Arthur and Molly had given him his choice of room on the third floor. Ron had been particularly happy about that, he'd learned from Ginny, as he'd expected to have to share his room.

Harry was happy too. Ron's room wasn't clean by any definition and, while he certainly couldn't call his own room clean, it wasn't the mess of clothing and knickknacks.

He ran his hand over the top of the book he held, his fingers catching on the head of the bookmark that had been placed in the middle. They were gifts from the Weasley family, both

the book and the marker. The book coming from Ron, who was astonished by his lack of interest in Quidditch and took it upon himself to cure him of the obvious defect, and the bookmark from Ginny, who thought he'd find it more useful than Ron's gift.

He'd also gotten chocolate from the twins, but he'd been heavily cautioned against eating them and they remained untouched on the table next to his bed. Arthur and Molly hadn't gotten him anything but he hadn't been surprised or hurt. They'd more than likely purchased their children's gifts and he wasn't about to hold a grudge. It'd been the most gifts he'd ever gotten for his birthday and he was more than happy with them.

Skimming the Quidditch book told him that he'd likely never be interested in the sport. He supposed it might be useful to at least know how it was played as it seemed to be the only real sport in the magical world but it wasn't he'd spend much time on. He didn't mind losing an evening reading his gift, though.

A quiet pop startled him away from his reading and he immediately looked to the noise, finding the odd sight of a house elf crouching in the corner of the room. It stared back at him with its too large eyes looking like it was just as shocked as he was. "Hello?" He said slowly, unsure what to say as the house elf stared at him.

His voice seemed to knock some sense into the little elf and it sprung up from its crouch, physically jumping as it excitedly moved closer to him. "Yous being Harry Potter!" It squeaked out, it's voice just a tad outside of the comfortable to listen to range.

"Last I checked, yes," Harry said, sliding Ginny's bookmark into the book and closing it. "And you would be . . . who?"

The elf's bulbous eyes widened further as it reached up and grabbed its ears and began pulling on them, "Oh, no no no no. Dobby not be being introducing himself. Dobby is Dobby." he said with a low bow.

He stayed down, his legs quivering a bit as he kept himself bent over. Harry furrowed his eyebrows."None of that." he said, throwing the blanket off of himself as he slid out of the bed. "Come on, get up."

He wasn't sure how house elves were supposed to act, with his limited experience, but the house elves he'd seen at Hogwarts hadn't been this timid.

The little elf looked up, surprise on his face as he slowly moved out of his bow. "Thank you," Harry said, getting a good look at the elf. It was smaller than the ones at Hogwarts and he wasn't sure if it was just the light or if it's off colored body was covered in bruises. "What are you doing here?" He asked gently. The Wean he Weasley's didn't own a house elf and he knew they didn't normally stray far from wherever they belonged unless they were told to.

He was aware of the risk that it'd been sent here with a purpose, and that he might be playing into its goal, but he knew the look of fear, and it seemed too real on Dobby's face.

Again, the little elf's eyes seemed to bug out of his head. "Dobby comes bringing warning," he said in a sudden hiss. "Dobby comes to warn the great Harry Potter of terrible danger. Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts this year," he said, suddenly moving up to Harry and grabbing his hand.

Harry flinched away from the sudden contact and Dobby cringed back, looking at his hands. The little creature ran over to Harry's dresser without warning and began slamming its hands in the middle drawer.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked in a strangled voice. He rushed over and stopped the drawer before it could close again. He could already see the discoloration forming around Dobby's knuckles from the sudden abuse. "Why'd you do that?" He asked, staring at the elf who just hung his head.

"Dobby upset the great Harry Potter." He said simply, no pain showing through in his voice. He said it like it answered everything.

"That's no reason to do this," Harry said, still more than a little shocked.

"Dobby had to be punished, sir. Dobby isn't supposed to touch wizards"

The acceptance in his voice brought up a spark of fury in Harry, that pushed past his shock. "And who told you that you had to punish yourself if you touched a wizard?"

Dobby shook his head rapidly. "No, Dobby can't say. Dobby already has to iron his hands for coming here." He said.

"You bloody well don't!" Harry said, a little louder than he meant to.

"Harry Potter must listen," Dobby said, ignoring him. "Terrible plots are happening at Hogwarts School this year. Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts School this year. Harry Potter must promise Dobby. Harry Potter must stay safe."

Harry listened, still astonished that the elf was just ignoring his obviously injured hands, before shaking his head. "Dobby, if you promise me that you won't iron your hands then I'll promise to do my very best to stay safe, hows that?

Dobby's eyes seemed to water a little before it nodded. "Harry Potter cares about Dobby." He said quietly. "Dobby promises. Now Harry Potter must promise."

"I promise to stay very safe this year," Harry said, feeling only a little bad about his wording. He'd keep his promise, but he was going to Hogwarts. He'd already accepted any danger that might be involved. He'd accepted it as he laid in his hospital bed worrying about Voldemort.

The little elf nodded. "Dobby must go now," he said, not sounding at all like he wanted to. He reached up, before pulling back. Harry recognized it and went to reach back for him. A small measure of comfort, but Dobby vanished.

Harry sighed as he stared at the spot Dobby had just occupied. Today had started so well too. He rubbed his fingers over his lips lightly, remembering the feeling of Ginny's sloppy kiss. He'd have to tell Dumbledore about this. If there was going to be danger at Hogwarts then he wasn't likely to be the only one in harm's way.

A small part of his mind registered his relative disinterest in the supposed danger to his person but it was overlooked as his eyelid twinged unconsciously and he suddenly felt the day sink into him. "Tomorrow," he said to himself, very much ready for sleep.

* * *

He awoke abruptly, both eyes snapping open as he shot up from his bed. His eyes locked onto the little inferno hat holding the knob of his door with a look of surprise on her face. "Hi." She said in a whisper.

He blinked, the desire to shut his eyes and fall back asleep rapidly returning now that the 'threat' had been determined. He glanced out the window, seeing the moon still hanging high in the sky. "Why are you sneaking into my room in the middle of the night?" He asked with a tired slur.

"I couldn't sleep." She said. She finished closing the door with a small click as the knob latched. "I wanted to ask if we could . . . um." She raised her hand a bit, fumbling her words.

"It has to be nearly three." He said, bringing his hand up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

Ginny pressed her hands together and tried to look innocent. It was rather ruined by the batting of her eyelashes. "Please." She said, the deceptive innocence entering her voice as she did.

He rolled his eyes and waved her over. "Come on, then. I'm not getting out bed." She smiled brightly and scuttled over to his bed, sitting on the edge. She reached out quickly, taking his hand before he could offer it. "Slow down." He said, getting his wits about him. "Give me a second to look at you."

She raised an eyebrow, "I thought you did earlier?"

"And earlier the concept of you using magic was a far away dream." He said simply. "Things have changed, and I need to properly look at you to see if your magic has changed at all. This is new water we're treading and I need to take note of everything."

"Just want to check out my night gown." She said in a quiet huff.

"You came to my room in the middle of the night." He said, "I can win any back and forth you start with that one."

"Grumpy."

"I like my sleep." He said, "Now hold still, please. Arms spread, palms up." She complied and he looked at her magic, admiring it again as an afterthought. He liked the way it moved. It was alive in a way that he wasn't used to seeing. Tonk's looked similar, if not a little duller. A majority of the ministry workers were boring to look at day in and out. They had magic, sure, but it wasn't alive like Ginny's was.

He looked at her closely, not really seeing the physical as he inspected. "This isn't uncomfortable at all." She said, causing him to focus on her.

"You've got nothing to stare at just yet." He said, looking up at her face. He knew that it might have been awkward for him to just stare at her like he was, but there was so much more happening than what she could see. "If you'd rather just talk, that's fine. I'd prefer you not wake me in the middle of the night for it though."

He could see her face redden, even in the dark of the room. "Hurry up." She muttered, not meeting his gaze.

Glad for the order, Harry returned to looking at her magic. His eyebrows rose, however, when he ran his eyes over her hand. He held it between his own, inspecting the discoloration he'd found. It was just a small spot, that seemed to be darkening lightly. That was odd enough but he had to take into account everything, and the discoloration was too close to the spot she'd accessed to be a coincidence.

"Do you feel anything right here?" He asked, pressing his finger to the spot.

"No," She said, "Well, nothing but magic." She corrected, a smile flaring onto her face at the word.

Harry hummed a response as he went back to his investigation. "Let me know when you feel anything. Try to respond to it, just like you did this morning." She nodded her acceptance, her smile growing, if possible, and he began to prod it gently with his magic.

It was good practice, all outside factors ignored, but the practice wasn't his focus. Ginny's face was screwed up in concentration, trying to feel out and respond to his magic prodding hers. He watched as her magic flickered, reacting only from the location he'd previously prodded. He hummed again and screwed his own face up in concentration. His magic slowly expanded, and he released Ginny's hand, letting magic cover it in his place.

"That feels weird," Ginny said.

"Weird how?"

She flexed her hand and wiggled her fingers. His magic moved in a gentle wave along with her, encompassing her hand completely. "I can still feel you holding my hand, even though you're not touching me. It's weird."

"Disconcerting?" He asked.

"Um . . . yeah."

He huffed a small laugh out "It means off-putting . . . and, considering the context, weird, I guess." He conceded.

"Then yes, it feels disconcerting."

Harry shook his head, smiling lightly. "Try to push it off your hand. I won't fight it so it shouldn't be overly difficult. Go slow. Try to feel how your magic wants to move. Don't fight against it. Listen to it, let it help you."

Her look of concentration held for a while longer, but nothing happened beyond the extraordinarily minor push she could do. She huffed in frustration after a few minutes, "I can't hear anything." She said, "I can feel it but I can't hear anything, and I can't make it do anything more than this." She pushed again with her magic. "I've been trying to do it all afternoon. If anything it's getting harder."

"What do you mean, harder? Like you're losing the feeling or you just can't make it listen?" he asked.

"It won't listen." She answered quickly. "I can still feel it just fine. It's just not reacting."

Harry hummed to himself as he thought. What had he done earlier that made it easy for her to use that he hadn't done now? He knew the answer but he didn't know why it was the answer, or how it meant anything. Before he'd manually stimulated her magic before asking her to do it. This time he had only attempted to show her where to do it. Did his magic kick start hers? Or was her magic only responsive when it was touched? Were squibs just magicals whose magic didn't flow like normal?

He wrapped his magic around hers again and began a gentle movement. "Let's try again," He said. "Go slow and try to take control of your magic, and make it move with me. Like a handshake. You just have to shake back."

She nodded in reply. He immediately saw the reaction in her magic. Where as before she'd barely managed to do anything, this response was nearly overwhelming. Her magic pressed against his and increased the movement, taking control of the action. Her magic turned as well. The shining red darkening slightly as she took control. The discoloration crawled up her arm as she 'flexed' her magic. "Stop." He said as soon as the surprise had worn off.

"What's wrong?" She asked, trying to rein in her joy. She was practically bouncing on the side of his bed and he didn't want to kill her joy, but he didn't know what the discoloration meant. Was it something bad, something irreversible? His rush to explore her magics had been innocent but he didn't want to cause some irreparable damage in his excitement.

"You're magic is changing." He answered. "I don't fully know why either. Truthfully I don't know if it's a good or a bad thing."

"You want to stop." She said, not asking a question. He heard the happiness draining away as she spoke.

He shook his head immediately because he honestly didn't want to stop. He wanted to figure out what was happening. He wanted to know where this path went. If squibs were people with understimulated magic then that was an easy fix, at least as far as he could see. He wanted to know, though. "It's an unforeseen risk, and now that it's apparent we might not want to push it any further. We have no way of knowing what will happen or if it's something that's going to hurt you."

He told her more so that all the information he had was available to her. As weary as he was, he knew they were going to continue. He wanted to, and he didn't need to ask to see her resolve. He supposed he understood. What lengths would he be willing to go to if magic was just outside his reach? That was Ginevra's reality every day and now it wasn't some far away dream. She could touch her magic and he didn't think she was willing to give that up. "Does it look bad?" She asked.

Harry pursed his lips, thinking for a moment, before shaking his head. "I don't know. Your color is changing and I don't know enough about what different colors mean. I know it's a change, but I can't say to what it might mean or how bad it might be."

Her eyes jutted back and forth, looking at nothing. He could see her mind working. Even as her color changed, the inferno didn't die, and the flames danced.

He reached out again, offering her his hand. Her eyes focused on him and he saw her make a decision, and grab his hand.

* * *

A pleasant breeze blew through the house's open windows and he could hear the twins outside cheering on their brother. They were likely de-gnoming the garden again. He closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent of bacon. "Good morning Ms. Weasley." Harry greeted as he walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Harry." She returned, looking over her shoulder with a smile. "The boys are out in the garden if you want to join them."

He shook his head. "Is there any breakfast left?"

"Of course there is." She said, waving him to the table, "I raised six boys and a man. We always have leftovers. Sit, sit."

He listened, sitting as she put an overly stuffed plate of food in front of him. "Thank you." He said before beginning to eat. Her food was delicious. It had a more personal touch than the food at Hogwarts, and the food he'd gotten at the Dursley's had never been first class. He cooked a lot of their meals, and he was barely a first rate chef. Nothing like Molly was.

"You're welcome, dear. Eat up. I'm sure Ron'll be back for more before long."

Harry chuckled at that and went to finish eating. He almost sighed as he finished, and looked over to the fireplace. He didn't want to call Dumbledore. He didn't want to deal with whatever plots were being made that placed him in terrible danger. He didn't want to think about the abused elf that he couldn't do anything about. He couldn't ignore it though, "Could I use some of the floo powder? I needed to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Molly nodded, "Go ahead, dear. Don't take too long though, Arthur will be heading out soon."

He nodded, and Molly went back to the small cauldron on her counter. He walked into the small den and grabbed the powder before throwing it into the fire with a shout. He braced himself before sticking his head into the green flames. He was curious about what he'd see if he took his eye patch off and watched the transition, but sticking his head into a fireplace was still something he was adjusting too, so that was a while off.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, rising from his desk on the other side. "You provide me a much-needed distraction. What can I do for you this morning, my boy."

Harry snickered as Dumbledore flicked papers away from him before moving closer to the fire. He sobered a bit as his reason for calling came back to mind, "Could you come through, I needed to talk to you about something that happened last night."

A frown marred Dumbledore's face at his tone but he nodded nevertheless, "Of course." He said, "Give me just a moment. I'll be through shortly."

Harry nodded, and pulled back, the burrow coming into view again. He moved to a chair, shaking off the minor disorientation of the sudden change.

"Can't handle your floo?"

A smile cracked his lips involuntarily. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Looked a little ill for a second. Maybe you need to kip off. Your eyes are bagging still." Ginny said.

He gave her a blank stare, wary of nearby ears. He wasn't exactly sure that Molly would approve of her daughter being involved in their little experiment and he was very sure that she wouldn't approve of her daughter sneaking into his room at night, regardless of reasoning.

Ginny laughed at his look and tried to continue on, but the fire flared brightly, interrupting her. Dumbledore stepped through, looking around the room for a moment before settling on the pair. "Harry." He greeted again. "Ginevra, looking lovely this morning my dear." Ginny turned red as she looked down, and Harry laughed at the unexpected sight. She shot him a scathing look, but it only spurred him on. Fawkes cawed from the Headmasters shoulder, and Dumbledore looked to it, seemingly surprised that the Phoenix was there. "Hello to Fawkes, as well," Dumbledore said, lifting a finger to scratch under the bird's beak.

Some of Ginny's blush faded at that as she let out a small laugh. "Good morning, Headmaster." She said, her voice still a bit quieter than he was used to. Fawkes cawed loudly again and hopped off Dumbledore's shoulder, flapping lightly as it glided to Ginny, landing on her shoulder.

"It seems Fawkes would rather be out and about this morning," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Would you mind showing him the yard, my dear." Ginny glanced at Fawkes before looking back to Harry, making Dumbledore smile a little wider. "Worry not. You'll have our young Harry back shortly."

Red crept back into her cheeks as she snapped her eyes away from him and nodded, "Come on, Fawkes." She said, "Let's get some air."

Harry took a deep breath as he watched them go. He recognized the signs, of course, and he knew Dumbledore would too. The man had been dealing with children for years. He knew how they acted. "Ginevra seems rather fond of you, Harry. Making more friends?" He asked, slyly.

"I was told there's a terrible plot being made for Hogwarts this coming year," Harry said, much more willing to deal with that than Dumbledore's poorly veiled insinuations. The headmaster's eyebrows rose slightly at that.

"Then you'll forgive me if I'm a bit more forward." He said, ignoring the other furniture in the room and conjuring himself a chair. "Who informed you of this plot?" He started with.

"A house elf," Harry answered. "He appeared in my room last night before I went to bed."

Dumbledore hummed for a moment, "I hadn't thought to place any wards that might limit house elves." He said, "Though, in this instance, it may be a happy accident. What did our elf have to say?"

Harry shook his head. "That's all he got out. There's supposed to be a terrible plot at Hogwarts this year and It's too dangerous for me to go back. He was rather insistent on that part"

"And that was all he said?" Dumbledore asked again, frowning.

Harry nodded in affirmation.

Dumbledore's frown deepened. "I admit that there's little I can do with this information." He said. "Many of the families that might plot against you are older and have house elves. The list of those that avoided Azkaban at the end of the war is longer than the one of those who went and it is too many names to easily narrow down." His fingers played against each other for a moment before he shook his head. "I will bring this information to Madam Bones but I fear that is all we can do until this threat is named."

"So we do nothing," Harry said, any good feeling from Ginny's presence fading quickly. "Tell the police and let them handle the problem."

Dumbledore made a placating gesture, "This is a faceless threat, my boy, and it comes from a source that many consider being little less than animals. The ministry will not sanction hit wizards to be placed around Hogwarts based on so little. I have Madam Bones' ear, and I will relay this information, but all we can do it wait, and prepare for every eventuality."

"So nothing?" Harry asked, feeling the spark of anger inside himself. "I almost died last year because of Voldemort plotting from within Hogwarts," He said in a quiet hiss, wary of Molly in the other room. "We have forewarning, this time, and the chosen course is to do nothing?"

Dumbledore sighed wearily. "It is not easy, Harry, to navigate these waters. If this threat was made public then people might panic and our Minister, Cornelius Fudge, would come down on us."

"I thought Hogwarts and the ministry were separated," Harry said, remembering the fact.

Dumbledore nodded, "They are, but a school and a nation cannot be completely removed from each other. The DMLE is under his ruling and, as much as I would like to argue the fact, he is not a strong willed man. He relies heavily on his advisors and they are, predominantly, suspected Death Eaters who have risen within the ministry."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but stopped, letting the information sink in as his mouth hung open in awe. It was the most awful sort of awe, but it was still awe. "So the people that might help us," He said slowly, "Would be blocked by the people that they're trying to catch because they went from suspected murderers to heads of state?"

Dumbledore nodded.

Harry sat back in his chair, blinking rapidly as he tried to process that. It baffled him and he wasn't sure how to go about beginning to understand it. Every way he tried to look at it brought up more questions for which he had no answers.

"We will do as much as we are able," Dumbledore said solemnly, snapping him out of his head. "I was lax with the wards last year. We have been at peace for a decade and I grew comfortable in it. Madam Bones is not so easily swayed as our Minister and can be relied on with news of this threat. Her Aurors are competent and know how to traverse the underbelly of our world. We will be doing everything we can safely do."

Harry heard him and he supposed his reassurance was, in fact, reassuring, but he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around everything. He'd known since he'd first had lunch with McGonagall on his first day in Diagon Alley that some of Voldemort's followers had gotten away from justice, but she'd been vague about the whole thing and knowing that the man was dead had been enough at the time.

Voldemort was alive though, and his followers were free, and not only free, they were in the government. The terrible plot that he'd put off the previous night was far more real now, knowing that the shadow of doom was so very large.

Dumbledore's hand fell on his and calm flowed through him. He wanted to keep his anger, simmer in it as he looked for some form of safety, but he saw Dumbledore's wand. "I don't want to be calm right now." He said.

"Yet you very much need to be," Dumbledore responded. "This is not something insurmountable, Harry. We will conquer this and be all the stronger for it. I promise you, Harry, you will be safe at Hogwarts this year."

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. Spells that could truly control emotions were illegal and he already felt Dumbledore's forced calm fading back to frustration.

"Good." He said, leaning back into his chair, "Now let us call young Ginevra back in. If she cannot cheer you up then I'm more than sure Fawkes can."

* * *

"We can call it here," Tonks said as she rolled her shoulders. "You're actually getting good at this."

Harry panted as he tried to catch his breath. He knew he likely looked as poor as he felt, with sweat matting his hair and making his clothes catch against his skin, but this was what he needed. He shook his head, "I can keep going." He said, standing up a little straighter. "Let's go again."

"You look like you're ready to fall into your own puddle. I think we can safely say you're making progress though, for a firstie anyway." Tonks said.

"I'm good to go again." Harry insisted. He reached up and wiped the sweat off of his forehead and refocused on the pink haired Auror. "Are you ready?" He asked, raising his wand.

Tonks tilted her head slightly, "We've been sparring for almost twenty minutes." she said, "That's twice as long as anyone your age should be able to go for and longer than I was able when I was in fifth year. There's reasonable training and then there's killing yourself. Let's take a break."

"I thought Hufflepuff was the house of the hard working." Harry bit out as she began to turn away again.

Tonks dropped her head and sighed, "And I thought Ravenclaw was the house of the intelligent." She said back, turning to face him again. "Too much too fast and you can get hurt, and that'll just slow everything down even more. I'm not gonna have Bones on my arse because you think you should already be a bloody god."

Harry growled low in his throat, "Stupefy."

Tonks, fumbled to the side as the spell passed her, outrage passing over her face as Harry sent his next spell at her. Jelly-leg jinx. First year, but against the clumsy Auror, he'd worked wonders with it. Tonks didn't react slowly though, her shield flared into existence. "Not alright!" she said loudly. "Expelliarmus!" She called out.

Harry moved to the right, giving himself a larger field of view, and returned the spell. Tonks didn't bother with a second shield though and surprised him as she batted the spell to the side before sending it again, faster than he could dodge. His breath left him as his wand was wrenched from his hand and he was pushed back.

"Not alright." She said again as she stalked up to him, her glare matching his. "I don't know what's got you so worked up today, but you need to get it out of your system before you get here!" She said, her voice rising as she spoke.

"I'll tell you what's got me so worked up." He said, wiping the sweat off his eye again, "I'll tell you exactly what's working me up." He reached up and pulled his eye patch off. "This eye is fake." he said, "It's fake because a madman started a war and instead of the government ending it properly, I did. I ended the war. Then, when the Aurors and hit wizards should have rounded up every man and woman with that brand on their arm and locked them up, they failed. They failed and now there's a sect of people that, if I'm properly informed, are doing rather well for themselves and would be, I think, rather happy to see me dead."

He was careful in his speech. He was upset. Upset and frustrated, but Dumbledore had made it clear that Voldemort's existence was a need to know bit of information and he was working with the people that needed to know. Tonk's wasn't on that list and he was finding it incredibly hard not to just shout that there was a madman after him and he wanted to live.

"I can't just take breaks." He said after a moment of silence. "They have years and years, and years of experience over me. The only thing I have going for me is that I am smarter than everybody around me, and that means nothing if I can't fight back. I have to keep practicing."

"Harry –"

"I've already been attacked once," He interrupted, "and it cost me my eye. I couldn't fight back, I couldn't resist." He took a deep breath, trying to regain control of himself. "I couldn't do anything. I was completely helpless, and nothing has ever terrified me more. Worse than that, though. Worse than that. I don't feel that fear anymore. Objectively I know it's the worst experience I've ever had. I know that because I compare it to every other experience and it's just the worst. I don't feel that terror anymore though. I don't feel it because I'm fucked up in the head."

Tonks stared, apparently to taken aback by his outburst to properly respond, Harry didn't mind though, "Personally, I think that's the worst part. I can't properly put into words how singularly frustrating it is knowing that I'm screwed up, to know that something isn't right in my head, and be completely incapable of doing anything about it. I'm not scared of Voldemort or his death eaters. I'm not sad about never having met my parents. I'm not happy about being with the Weasleys. I've processed the emotions, I've categorized them, and I've stored them. I can't properly recall them after the fact. They're there, I remember them, but it's not a real memory. They have no substance. No impact after the fact."

"Harry . . ." Tonks said slowly, "I . . . this is way over my head. I don't know how –"

"I don't expect you to." He said, his frustration mostly gone. He was left tired, and more than ready for the break she'd offered. "I'm sorry for blowing up. I'm sorry for attacking you." He added quickly, "I was frustrated. I'm still frustrated. It's passing though."

Tonks shook her head and tried to force a grin. "You're nothing I can't handle, squirt."

His eyebrow twitched a bit at the name. He really hated her nicknames for him. "You almost fell on your face trying to dodge that first one."

She tilted her nose up, "A clever ruse. Had to throw you off guard."

He rolled his eyes but smiled lightly regardless. She was funny, at least. "Tonks," he said, "Could you not tell anyone about this. I'm usually more . . . controlled than this. I just had a really frustrating morning and I didn't . . . deal with it, I guess. I really am sorry for snapping at you."

"It's forgotten." She said, waving him off. "Are you sure this isn't something you want to talk to somebody about, though? This seems like one of those things that you don't just ignore and hope for the best."

He shook his head. "I have friends and I have support. Dumbledore knows. Well, he knows a little." He amended remembering the old man's confession in the hospital, "I don't know what he's planning to do, but I know he knows. Thank you, though, for the concern."

"Like I said, then, it's forgotten."

"Thank you." He said genuinely.

"Enough of this now." Tonks said, "This is gloomy and dark I'm going to have enough of that to last years once I'm out of training. I don't need any while I'm teaching you."

"That's one way to look at it, I suppose."

"It's the only way to look at it." She said with certainty. "You've had a plenty long enough break." She tossed his wand back to him and he fumbled trying to catch it.

"Sparring?" He asked.

"Gotta show Mr. I'm smarter than everyone around me that smarts aren't everything in a fight." she said back, her grin far more real this time.

He rolled his eyes and nodded, bringing his wand up. "Can you show me how you swatted my spell away like that?" He asked.

"Many things, I can show you." She said, "but first, humility, you must learn."

"Yoda?" he asked.

"Stupefy!"

* * *

Just a small comment about the sparring because I imagine some people will question why I put Harry being worn out at only twenty minutes when in some stories the authors write him as training for hours on end. I added this because I have some experience in the area. I learned a variaty martial art with my brothers at a young age until my upper teens and I can tell you with certainty, fighting is exhausting. Twenty minutes is what I chose when I considered that they wouldn't be physically fighting so much as dodging and reacting. Still draining stuff if you're putting your whole body into the motions.

Also, yes, I'm starting the whole Ginny thing young. I don't know about all yall, but I remember being ten and eleven. It wasn't love so much as it was infatuation and interest, but it was still there, even that young. The way I see it, Ginny grew up hearing about Harry Potter but she was never one of the people that might have a shot at him because she was a squib. Let me tell you, friends, nothing makes a person want something more than knowing they can't have it.

All of your reviews belong to me!

They will when you give them to me anyway. On that note, you should leave a review. I love reading them, and they're amazing motivators.

Peace Out!


	9. Chapter 9

I had a hell of a lot of trouble with this chapter. I didn't know how to get into it properly without it seeming overly cliché and I didn't want to just skim over the events because that wouldn't do them proper justice for their weight on the story I'm trying to tell. In the end, I simply stepped away from the story to work on my personal works so I could try to get some perspective on it. I'm back now and while I still can't say I'm happy with this chapter, it is done.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

"It seems," Amelia said slowly, the exasperation she felt seeping out of her words, "That you've had far too many reasons to be in my office as of late. Please tell me this is just a poorly attempted social call."

Albus smiled as he shook his head, "Such is the luck of those who live in interesting times, I'm afraid."

"I'll settle for a boring life then." She said, glaring at him.

"I would gladly join you," Dumbledore said as he sat down, knowing she wouldn't offer. "Alas, I bring news. None of it good, I'm sad to say."

"I feel I would be more shocked if you brought me good news," Amelia said. Still, she closed the folder she'd had open and gave him her attention. "What terror do you bring me today?"

"Hogwarts has been threatened." He said, his smile finally dipping as he gave his news. "It was described as a terrible plot being made, though I am unsure if the plot is still being made or if it has already been set into motion."

Amelia shook her head, trying to process this latest piece of news. Voldemort maybe being alive was one thing. It was a terrible thing, to be sure, but even at the height of his power, Hogwarts had never been threatened directly. "Every pureblooded heir on the isles goes to Hogwarts. Nobody would be idiotic enough to attack it. Just trying would turn every family against them."

Dumbledore splayed his hands out, "And yet the threat has been made."

A familiar ache that she was beginning to associate with Dumbledore's presence grew in her head, "Who gave you this information?"

"Mr. Potter relayed this information to me. It was given to him via house elf."

"A house elf made this threat," Amelia asked, disbelieving.

"A house elf gave us the warning," He clarified. "Before I left him to the young Auror Tonks he described the elf as broken. So broken, in fact, that it abused itself out of fear of future abuse. It is my belief that this elf had heard of Mr. Potter's victory over Voldemort and brought him this threat in an attempt to save his life. Following that vein of thought—"

"You think a death eater is making the threat." Amelia interrupted, finding that the most likely conclusion.

"Very much so."

"So this is a threat toward Mr. Potter, not Hogwarts."

"If only it were so simple," Dumbledore answered. "An attack on Mr. Potter would be too direct. He's only just rejoined our world and the people are still very much in love with the idea of him. Our dear Minister would demand the investigation be thorough."

Amelia nodded, agreeing. "So this an assassination attempt disguised in an attack on the school. Every old family gets to act shocked because their kids were in danger and Mr. Potter becomes another name on a list."

Dumbledore nodded, "The outcry would be enormous and the culprit would likely be among the most outspoken, demanding justice against whoever they attempt to point the proverbial finger at."

Amelia sighed and clasped her hands together in front of her face. "I don't have the resources for this, Dumbledore. It takes time to train Auror's and our hit wizards don't have the skills to deal with this." She paused a moment, trying to conjure up a scenario that would allow her to hide an investigation into the dark crowd. "I could never hide it from the Wizengamot," She concluded out loud, "Once they learned of the source they'd shut it down and, worse, if our plotter is on the Wizengamot then we'd have nothing but dead elves and no leads at all."

"We are in a difficult position," Dumbledore said in agreement, "I will be doing all I can to shore up Hogwarts wards and I felt the more warning you had the better prepared we might be for the coming dangers."

Another sigh escaped her as she tried to plan around the Wizengamot. She hated it, too. She hated plotting around her governing body just to save people. "Give me a week." She said after a moment. "I'll see who I can move around without arousing suspicion."

"I understand." He said, rising from his seat. "I will return in a week then. If you need any assistance—"

"I can manage my people." She snapped.

"Very well," He bowed his head slightly, "Till then." He said in goodbye.

She watched him go with a quickly fading glare. Even if he irritated her, he was trying to fight for the same goal she was and that counted for something. Now she just had to figure out how to deal with this new threat. "Faure!" She called out. Her assistant opened the door quickly, stepping fully into the office before attempting to straighten herself out.

"Yez Ma'am." She said just as quickly.

"Get Auror Moody in. Tell him I need to speak with him."

* * *

Tonks walked down the hall slowly, the smile that normally lit her face was somewhat false as she made her way back to her desk among her fellow Auror trainees. She loved being on special duty. Spending a majority of her afternoon teaching Harry Potter magic was wonderful and it certainly beat Moody smacking her up and down the training room.

She was beginning to question her placement though. Harry was a fantastic student. He learned and absorbed everything she taught him at a surprising pace and if it wasn't for his non-existent interest in law enforcement he'd make a fantastic Auror. Harry wasn't a normal trainee though. She hadn't seen it until he'd exploded on her but it stood out now that she'd seen it.

Harry was focused in a way a normal person wasn't. No distraction held him when they moved onto a new subject, no feelings joined them in their training. He responded to her glibness with glibness. He responded to her jokes with jokes of his own. He was mimicking her and she'd been so caught up in her own excitement that she ignored all the signs.

His explosion may have been the first time that she'd seen real emotion from him and it worried her because of how quickly it had faded when she'd agreed to spar with him again. Emotions that strong wasn't supposed to just vanish, but it was apparently the norm for Harry Potter.

How was she supposed to handle that?

She wanted to go to Bones, screw the consequences. The boy needed real help that he apparently wasn't getting. She wasn't a mind healer, she had no idea where to even begin with that sort of work.

This wasn't just some kid though. This was Harry Potter and that made the situation infinitely more complicated than it had to be. Tonks' didn't like complicated on the best of days.

"Nymphadora." a harsh voice called out, startling her from her thoughts. A scowl overtook her features as she glared at Moody, "Come on girly, we've been summoned."

She raised an eyebrow, her glare fading somewhat, "By who?" she asked. Alastor Moody wasn't just a dog that came when called, he listened to those he liked and ignored those he didn't and nobody said anything about it.

"Bones." He grunted out as he set out again, not checking to see if she followed. She hurried along regardless, silent as she followed.

Moody didn't like idle chit-chat. She'd learned that over the course of her training, and trying to engage in it with him had brought out the worst sort of response. "If you've got the energy to yap away then I'm obviously not working you hard enough." He'd said before he'd spelled the obstacle course she'd been running to fight back. She hadn't made that mistake again.

They made their way through the reception area unmolested by the various secretaries and entered the Director's office. Bones sat behind her desk, looking a bit more than irritated. "Tonks." She said in greeting, "Sit, we to speak."

Tonks glanced at Moody, who'd moved to the corner of the room, his eye spinning wildly in its socket, before obeying and sitting across from Bones. "What's up, Boss," she said, trying to force a grin.

"Relax, Tonks this isn't disciplinary." The flutter of butterflies that had gathered in her stomach flew away at that, "That said," Amelia continued, "A situation has come up and Alastor has recommended your unique talents for the job."

Tonk's raised her eyebrow in question, "I thought I was on camp duty until the program ends. What do you need us for?"

"Not us," Alastor grunted out, surprising her. She turned to see him behind her chair, "Training's over. You know enough not to die, more than half the others. You're ready to go alone."

Tonks turned back to Amelia quickly, only to see her nod in agreement. "You'd have received your red robe at the end of the program, regardless of this. As I said, however, a situation has come up."

* * *

Harry sighed as he relaxed into the couch. He only had one more day with Tonks and after that, he'd only have to wait two short weeks to return to Hogwarts.

He was more than ready for Hogwarts. His time with Tonks hadn't been wasted and he felt prepared for any dangers the year might throw at him. Dumbledore had assured him that the DMLE would be watching Hogwarts closely so he dearly hoped that those dangers would be minimal if present at all.

Threats aside, he also found himself wondering what to do about Ginny. Her color had changed. As she began using more and more of her magic it slowly darkened into a deep maroon. He still had no acceptable ideas on why it was happening, but it didn't hinder her ability to continue nor hurt her in any discernable way.

If anything this darkening seemed to match her ability to use her magic independently of him. The most she could muster up was a small push against his own. He'd improved in leaps and bounds during their project, but her progress was minimal. It was progress though and, for Ginny, it was everything.

He was leaving though. He was headed back to Hogwarts and he wasn't sure if Ginny was capable of wand work yet.

"What if we tell Professor Dumbledore?" He said, seeing her fire through his eyelid.

"It is incredibly hard to sneak up on you, you know."

"The twins would agree," He said, opening his eyes to actually see her. "It was a serious question though. I'm leaving soon and if you keep improving as you have been then there isn't a reason for you not to be at Hogwarts."

Ginny frowned, "Do you think they'd actually let me in?" She asked. She moved quickly, twisting and falling into the spot next to him. "It's not exactly a secret that the youngest Weasley's a squib. Me showing up at Hogwarts . . ." She trailed off, not looking at him.

"Isn't it what you wanted? To learn magic?"

"Of course it is!" She said quickly, "It's just. . ." She flexed her hands in her lap, and Harry saw her magic flex with her. "This summer has been like a fairy tale, amazing and unbelievable."

"Have I lived up to your expectations yet?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Oh, shut up," Ginny said, red flushing over her face as she punched his arm. "I'm serious. This is magic. Real magic." she flexed it again, "This summer has been amazing. Too amazing. Going to my parents, going to Dumbledore, it feels like the part of the dream where you wake up and realize that it was just a really good dream." He felt her pressing against him, her magic stretching away from her to press against his. It was an impressive display, compared to where she began. "I don't want this to be a dream."

Harry smiled and pushed back, his magic overwhelming Ginny's attempt to fight back quickly. He pressed against her, feeling her magic swell up as she tried to push. "This isn't a dream." He said as he relented, letting her push him back, "I don't know if every squib is like you, I don't know if you're a special case, but," He turned to face her full, bringing his leg onto the couch, "You can do magic. Going to Dumbledore isn't going to do anything but confirm what we already know."

She pursed her lips hesitantly before nodding, "Okay."

"Well talk to your parents when your dad gets home then."

She let out a nervous laugh, "That's soon."

"The sooner the better," Harry said, chuckling himself at her nerves, "They sent out the supply lists almost two weeks ago. If we take care of this quickly then we might buy your supplies with the rest of us."

"Still have to talk to my parents first," she muttered, biting her lip.

"It's not like we've committed a crime," He said with a laugh, "Are they that intimidating?"

"Maybe not to you." She said, standing up and walking to the window on the far side of the room.

Harry joined her, looking out to see Molly on her knees in the garden across the yard. "I think they'll be ecstatic that their daughter can do magic." He said after a moment. "They might be upset that we went behind their backs but just think about how excited your mum will be to teach you all the charms she uses in the kitchen, because you know she's going to want to."

Ginny breathed through her nose in an imitation of a laugh but her smile came back, small as it was. "She would." She glanced at him, leaning against the other side of the window, "Could I play with your wand again, Harry." she asked, blinking her eyelashes at him.

"Well, it's good to see your nerves haven't completely ruined your humor." He said, sliding his wand out of his sleeve and twirling it around for her. "Let's see if you can get anything out of it this time."

She grinned at him and took the handle, he watched her hands as he grasped it and saw the connection form. It was weak, probably just a poor match, but it happened. Ginny gasped as she felt it. Sparks jumped off the tip of his wand in an uncontrolled release of her magic. "It worked," She said, her grin spreading into a full smile. "It worked!" She said, her voice cracking as it rose.

"It did," he said quietly. For however long the feeling held, he was proud of her and it felt good. She laughed excitedly and met his eye. The last time excitement had taken her like this she'd kissed him. He could see the desire to do it again in her eyes, and he found himself unopposed to the idea. He tilted his head down slightly, lowering it to her height in subtle acceptance.

She apparently understood and moved forward, kissing him just like she had before. It was less sloppy, there were no tears or fumbled collisions. He kissed her back, and pressed his magic against hers, prodding it into action.

"Oi, what's this."

His magic crashed back into him as his focus died. Ginny jumped away from him as he stood stock still. "What's what?" Ginny asked with sudden indignation, her voice calming him enough to turn slowly, his heart doing jumping jacks in his chest as he found Ron standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Don't go playing dumb on me." Ron said, walking into the room properly, "What'r you doing to my sister Potter?"

Harry's eyebrow rose at the accusation but a smile lit his face as he calmed, his anxiety about being caught waning with the discovery that it was only Ron. "Nothing I'm sure she didn't thoroughly enjoy," He answered.

"Harry!" Ginny yelled, punching him in the arm. He laughed at the noise and looked to her. Her face was the very shade of a tomato.

"You're more than welcome to refute it, dear, but it's hopeless. Your brother's caught us red-handed"

"Now wait a minute," Ron said, confusion crossing his face.

Ginny's seemed unable to properly respond, her jaw opening and closing in the semblance of words without noise.

Harry smiled. Sex jokes weren't the only way to get a laugh it seemed. He pulled Ginny into a one-armed hug and looked to Ron. "Your sister snared me with her charms, I'm afraid. We've been together all summer." He said, enjoying the way that Ron seemed to be collapsing into himself. "We'd be really grateful if you didn't tell your parents, we're working up to that still." He added, more an afterthought than anything.

Silenced followed while Harry smiling brightly while the two siblings simply stood with him. Ginny had managed to turn her head to him, seemingly realizing what he was doing but still being unable to completely process it. Ron seemed to have broken. Harry chuckled a little and patted Ron on the shoulder, "Glad you're on our side mate. Get on Hermione's good side and we might even be friends." He said cheerfully before pulling Ginny past the still boy and out into the backyard.

They got halfway through the yard before sense seemed to snap back into her. "What was that?" She yelped, stifling her voice halfway through and looking toward the house. She was still beet red.

"That was fantastic," he answered before laughing to himself as she swatted his arm again.

"That was horrible, you prat. Ron's gonna tell Mum and she'll tell Dad, and the Twin's will find out. Ohhh." She covered her face with her hands. "The twins are already being jerks about us hanging out. If Ron tells them what you said. . ." She groaned and fell backward, dropping into the grass.

Harry kneeled, before dropping down next to her. "Look at it this way. You're going to be seeing them all year at Hogwarts. What's going to matter more to them, one excellently improvised joke or you-you – going to Hogwarts with them."

She groaned loudly into her hands, still covering her face. "Mum's not gonna want to listen to anything if Ron tells her we were kissing." She threw herself sideways, glaring at him, "She had a fit when Percy came home talking about his girlfriend, and he's the most responsible one of us in her eyes, _and_ that was in his third year! I'm the baby. She'll be apocalyptic."

"It was barely a kiss," Harry said diplomatically, still smiling.

Ginny's glare lessened and he saw her lips twitch up before she squashed them down. Something sparked in her eyes, though, and her magic jumped. "I felt what you did." She said quietly. "It was going to be a lot more than 'barely a kiss'. If Ron hadn't come along . . . your magic . . ." She trailed off and diverted her gaze, apparently unsure of herself. "It felt very nice." She said after a moment. She looked back up to meet his eyes.

"Took your mind off your nerves too."

A laugh escaped her. "Circe, Harry, if that was you relaxing me you've got a lot to learn. I'm all strung out now."

* * *

Ron hadn't said anything to anyone, apparently, as their return to the burrow was met with little fanfare. Molly greeted them, having come in from the garden, and Harry had called Dumbledore, asking him to come over after dinner.

Ginny was a mess of nerves throughout the meal. Her eye's flicked between him and her brother as she tried to eat. Harry was far more relaxed. Molly might be angry, sure, but the twins would laugh when he explained things, and if she was still angry about them having kissed then he'd simply toss Ginny his wand. She had excellent reflexes and she'd catch it. The shoddy connection would form and sparks would fly.

Dinner passed smoothly, though, and Dumbledore stepped through the fireplace just as he set his plate in the sink for Molly to spell clean. Ron and the twins had already fled. Ron seemed unable to look at either him or Ginny without a strange color filling his cheeks and the twins were off to do whatever it was they did behind closed doors, Harry wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to know the ins and outs of that creative process.

Seeing the old man brought darker thoughts to the forefront of his mind, but the emotion was dulled from the memory. He was safe for now and he was getting better at protecting himself. Tonks beat him relentlessly until he could block her spells. He was magically powerful and he was getting better at controlling himself. He wasn't helpless anymore.

". . . Ginevra, as beautiful as ever." Dumbledore's voice filtered through his mind and he focused on the room, realizing he'd zoned out again. "Harry," Dumbledore greeted, "So very nice of you to join us this evening." He said in an altogether too amused tone.

"Well, I did invite you. I thought I might want to be here."

"So you did." His smile strained, "Shall we abscond to the porch for some privacy?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, I think this is more of a Weasley family conversation."

Arthur looked over from the table where he was still eating, "Is everything all right?"

Harry nodded, "Everything's fine. More than fine, really. I - We just needed to talk to you and Mrs. Weasley with the Headmaster." He said, motioning for Ginny to join him back in the kitchen. It seemed she was trying to slink away from the group with her brothers.

Molly shot a look at her daughter as she turned away from the counter. "Is this about how the two of you have been sneaking around the burrow for half the summer?" She asked pointedly, stopping next to her husband at the table.

Harry shot a glance at Ginny, seeing her light up, before focusing on her parents. Dumbledore had never been anything but supportive of him, he didn't think the old man would be a problem. Ginevra's parents, however, he was less sure of. They were fantastic people, without a doubt, but he'd seen Molly's temper. Arthur was laxer, but he'd never disputed his wife's word either. "It is." He said before motioning for Ginny to join him.

"This was your idea," She squeaked out, taking another slow step back toward her room. "You do the talking."

Harry sighed, "I think they'll be far more at ease if you're a part of the conversation."

"Yeah, but then I'll get yelled at too."

"You're going to get yelled at, either way, I should think," Arthur said, chuckling lightly. "Come in here with us, darling. We've known about you two running around all summer. I don't think you two have been able to do anything quite that horrid."

Dumbledore leaned down slightly, "When I said you would be interested in young Ginevra I did not mean it so literally, my boy." Dumbledore said quietly as the elder Weasleys were looking expectantly at their daughter. "Good show, though."

He joined the Weasleys before Harry could respond, leaving him fighting down a heat he hadn't yet felt. He glanced at Ginny again, seeing her still standing defiantly. "Rip off the band-aid, quick and painless."

She shot him a glare, "It's hardly painless."

"No," He agreed, "But it hurts far less than dragging it out." He said, before going to join everyone at the table.

"Still, bloody hurts," Ginny muttered as she gave in. "You can't be mad." She said when she sat down next to him. "This is good news. Really, really, really good news and I want you all to be happy for me." She said, sitting up as straight as she could.

Harry noted the look on the elder Weasleys faces. "I want to quickly add that I've not asked your daughter to date me." He said, "I know what it looks like and. . . that," he waved his hand at Ginny, "Probably didn't help at all, but that isn't what this is about."

"What is this about then?" Molly asked rather calmly.

"I admit, I'm rather curious as well," Dumbledore said. "While I am happy that you felt the need to include me, I don't yet see a reason for my inclusion."

"We'll get right to the point of it then. Ginevra, would you like to start?" Harry started, looking at her expectantly. She shook her head as she bit her lip, looking even less sure of her decision then she had when he'd brought it up. "Very well then, I'll start. Before school let out, before I came here, I was . . . reluctant. I thought the bad blood between me and Ron would translate to tension between all of us and I didn't want to be in that sort of situation."

"We would never –"

"I know," Harry said, interrupting Molly. "I know that now. I didn't before though. In an effort to relieve me of my reluctance the Headmaster here informed me that your daughter was a squib." He laughed a little, "I pestered the school caretaker about being a squib a bit over the winter break but he isn't the friendliest of people. I was interested in squibs as a concept. I'd just learned about magic I'd only spent a few months actually learning magic and then I learned about squibs, and it piqued my curiosity."

"So that's why you've been so interested in our daughter?" Arthur asked with a smile. "I admit, I had thought it would be something less academic."

"Dad!" Ginny squeaked again. "We've only t-talked."

Molly's eyes narrowed a bit and Harry pressed forward, trying to keep his momentum and not have the conversation dragged toward more difficult topics. "Your daughter is fascinating sir, both academically and otherwise. You know about my eye, the enchantments on it." Dumbledore hummed slightly, his lips quirking up. "Sir?" Harry asked, knowing that tone well.

"It must have been terribly confusing for you to see young Ms. Weasley." He said.

"What do you mean, Albus," Arthur asked.

"Squibs are an anomaly, you know this." Dumbledore said, "But among the academic community they're even more of a mystery, as Harry has no doubt learned this summer. With the enchantment Harry has on his eye he can see the aura of magic. To a trained eye, this offers a great many advantages in many different fields but it also brings up many questions. Squibs, like you, again, know, can't use magic as me and you are able to. They still very much have it inside them though. That's why they are able to see past the wards that hide us from the muggle world."

"She was lit up," Harry said. "It was like looking at another witch."

Dumbledore nodded. "Squibs have long been an unanswered question."

"That's why I asked you here though. Ginny," Harry pulled his wand out and offered it to her.

"Harry, I don't –"

"You want this." He said. "It wasn't a dream." Dumbledore and Molly started to speak at the same time. Harry assumed they were going to tell him that he shouldn't get Ginny's hopes up or that even if she had magic she still couldn't use it. He'd always been good at tuning people out though, even if it wasn't always intentional. "Show them." He told her.

"Okay." Ginny reached out, taking his wand just as he had early. He saw her fire jump through it, connecting to the wand in its haphazard way. He expected sparks but instead, a gout of flame roared out of his wand. He watched, a grin forming on his lips as Dumbledore's eyes widened as he pushed away from the table to avoid the flame, moving quicker than a man his age had any right to. Molly and Arthur reacted much the same but Molly was too close to her husband and his push knocked her back.

"Ginevra's a witch," Harry said, not looking away from said witch as everyone righted themselves. "She can do magic just as well as anyone else."

Ginny was smiling too, despite the chaos that she had inadvertently caused. Harry could see the joy in her eyes as her magic danced around her. "I'm a witch." She said in a small voice. "It's really a good thing." She said a little louder.

Harry looked back to everyone else in the room. They were all standing now, staring at the two of them.

"Albus," Molly said slowly, "I… What."

"I'm afraid I'm just as lost as you, Molly," Dumbledore responded. "Though I feel I now understand why I was asked to join this evening." He said, a smile showing through his beard.

"This isn't funny!" Molly yelled. Ginny's smile fell as she startled. Arthur grabbed his wife's arm gently and turned her back to the table.

"Ginny. Harry." He said, still holding his wife as stood next to him, shaking. "I... I don't want you to think we're upset. I want you to know that we're more than reasonably worried."

Harry nodded and stood himself, moving to Ginny's side. "The Headmaster was right. I was very confused when I saw her so I did what I do when I'm confused. I tried to figure it out."

"You could have asked," Dumbledore said. "I am always available to you, Harry."

"I didn't want to ask though. I was this close to figuring out the mirror." He said, holding his fingers up. "This close. I knew you probably knew what was happening, I knew you could help. I wanted to figure it out on my own though. Besides, can you explain this?" He asked, motioning to Ginny. "She's not a squib, not anymore at least."

Fire flashed above the table as music spread through the burrow.

Magic suddenly pounded through Harry's ears, reacting on its own for the first time in months. It surged forward as foreign power surged through him and he felt every muscle in his body go taught, cramping as tightly and painfully as he'd ever felt. He tried to scream out but the world faded to black far too quickly.

* * *

"What is happening?" Molly yelled as Poppy moved around the two beds. Albus stood back, next to the Weasleys. Molly grabbed his arm and wrenched him sideways to face her. "Albus, please. You must have a thought and idea. Something!" She pleaded, sounding rather pitiful.

He did have an idea but Harry and Ginny's collapse in the burrow had come as much as a shock to him as it had Arthur and Molly. He hadn't expected it at all, though he hadn't expected much of what he'd learned today.

"Molly, give Poppy a moment to look at them," Arthur said, glancing up and meeting Albus's eye. The man looked no less worried than his wife but Albus was thankful for his calm head. He needed to think.

Ginevra was a squib. He'd checked her himself when they had first learned. He trusted the healers well enough but they had wanted a second opinion and they trusted him. No, there hadn't been a mistake made. Harry hadn't caused that fire though. What had happened then? What would cause a squib to be able to use magic? Even further, what would cause a squib to use magic that would cause the rather sudden and violent blackout that both the children had experienced?

He refused to believe that the two events weren't connected. Coincidences were one thing, but this was very much another. Fawkes was the only thing that had changed in the room, and that was simply the Phoenix returning to him.

He looked up. "Poppy." He said as he moved forward, far too aware of the Weasley's eyes on his back. "Is Harry magically exhausted?"

Poppy looked over her shoulder at him as he approached. "Yes, he is. Almost completely drained." She answered.

"How completely?"

"It's like he's been casting for days, Albus. It is hard to drain oneself as much as he's been drained. You'd have to be trying and even then it wouldn't be easy."

He nodded, "And Ginevra?"

A confused look crossed Poppy's face. "I haven't checked. She's a squib."

"If you could." He asked, waving toward Ginevra's bed.

Poppy frowned and nodded, shuffling past him as she did. "Oh dear." She said as her eyes widened. "What were these children doing?" she asked, her voice raising.

"What's wrong with her?" Molly shouted before he could answer.

"She's very nearly as drained as Mister Potter. She's . . ." Her breath caught as she stopped speaking. "We have to get her to Saint Mungo's immediately."

Molly shot forward, free from Arthur's grip, to her daughter's bedside. "What's wrong with her?" Molly asked again. "Please, Poppy."

"I don't know what they were doing but your daughter is dangerously exhausted and she'd not recovering magic at all. Harry is, he's going to be fine. He needs rest and to not do whatever it is he did again. Ginevra though, somehow they've drained her of magic. Normally that wouldn't be a problem. Same as Harry. Don't it again and rest. She is a squib though and her magic isn't coming back."

Albus turned and walked past Molly toward Harry's bed as he listened to them talk. "I haven't studied magical theory in more than two decades, Poppy, but even I know that squibs don't need magic." Molly continued.

"Molly," Arthur said from behind her, "we saw her. . ."

"She's a squib!" Molly shouted. "What is happening to her?" she asked again.

Poppy sighed desperately before looking up in thought. "Okay, our bodies are receptacles for magic but that magic just isn't in us. Think of magic as . . . as . . . as a faucet. That faucet is constantly flowing. Our bodies are the cup that the water, the magic, constantly pours into. When we use magic use magic we tip the glass. The faucet is always on though and it's almost always filling the glass faster than we can pour it out. Right now Ginevra has tipped her glass, but the faucet is off so she's just emptying herself out."

"It's a popular theory about why squibs can't use magic," Dumbledore said, drawing their attention. "Their lack of ability to cast spells is their body's way of protecting them because it knows that it's not being replenished and if it runs out it will invariably die." A horror struck look crossed Molly's face.

Arthur remained calm though. "You don't look worried." He said, "You look far to calm, in fact. What are you thinking Dumbledore?"

His wand fell into his hand and he waved it across Harry's bed and pushed it toward Ginevra's "I'm thinking a great many things. Above all of them, however, I am trying to comprehend what has happened tonight. I almost hope I'm wrong." He walked behind their beds and leaned over, grabbing their hand and clasping them together. "Could you check young Ginevra again, Poppy?"

"What are you looking for, Albus?" Poppy asked.

"Humor me." He said with a small smile.

She sighed before nodding and scanning Ginevra again. Confusion took her face and Albus felt a tension fall off his shoulders, however slight it was. "She's. . . I don't understand." Poppy said, looking at him.

"Albus," Arthur said, also looking at him expectantly.

"It was Fawkes," He started, "That gave me the thought. Fawkes returns to me when we have spent too much time away from each other, that is why he saw fit to pop into your house. He does this because he is my familiar, and without me, he would die truly." Poppy understood, he saw it in her eyes, but Arthur and Molly still did not. "Most familiars are fine without their master. Owls, toads, cats. A phoenix is a magical creature though, and when bound as we are he is capable of much more than he would be without me. He can do more because he draws on me."

"What does this have to do with Ginny?" Molly asked.

"Ginevra is a squib. Even though she should not be able to cast spells, she is still magical. Much like Fawkes is able to do more through his bond with me, I believe Ginevra is able to do more through her bond with young Harry. To be plain, I believe Harry has bound Ginny as his familiar."

Molly was quiet as she opened her mouth, attempting to speak but seemingly unable to find the words. Arthur just stared at his daughter in thought.

"It shouldn't be possible though." Poppy said, looking as confused as she had initially. "People can't bind other people like that. Ginevra is fully sentient. Her mind would reject it."

He nodded. "A conundrum, no doubt."

"If that's all it is." Molly said, finding her voice, "We can stop it. Familiar bonds can be broken."

Albus nodded. "That is an option."

"Do we want to though?" Arthur said, stepping forward to join the rest around the beds.

"What do you mean, do we want to? Look at our daughter, Arthur!"

"She used a wand, Molly," Arthur responded, facing her. "She used a wand. However Harry did this, however they did this, our baby girl can use magic now."

Albus watched Molly's face twist. He knew her instinct was to pull her family away from any danger but Arthur was right. "We can do nothing until they wake." He said, drawing their attention back to him. "Poppy, watch them. If anything changes call us immediately." She nodded and he looked to the Weasley's. "Let us adjourn to my office. We can familiarize ourselves with the specifics of this unique discovery."

* * *

This is the last chapter before Second Year starts, I swear to Merlin. I wasn't expecting it to take me 60 thousand words to cover a single year but holy hell it took a bit to get to this point. Regardless, things are moving forward in Harry's life and now he's got more than just himself to think about.


	10. Chapter 10

Nothing to see up here today, enjoy the chapter folks!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

* * *

Harry felt consciousness return with a dull ache spreading across his forehead. It felt like it was squeezing his brain in his head and he groaned under the unexpected onslaught of pain. He opened his eyes and was immediately assaulted by color. He recognized himself as being in the hospital wing at Hogwarts but the room had never struck him so vividly. The color palette of the room seemed saturated, it was far more vibrant than he could recall and the assault on his senses was too much for him.

He heard the feminine grunt as he pushed off the bed and collapsed over the side of it, his throat constricting painfully as his stomach emptied itself onto the floor.

"Harry?"

His head shot up at the voice, worry flooding through him. Ginny was sitting up on the bed, which he could now see was two beds pushed together. She'd practically bounded over hers and was leaning off the edge of his, staring down at him.

Her face sent a funny feeling through him, like his upset stomach decided to dance, before the feeling shot up to the back of his mouth and he bent down and puked again. He heard the shuffle of Ginny moving off the bed and he felt her hand land on his back, rubbing small circles in it as her face reappeared in his vision like his own personal sun. Her familiar red hue was a color that didn't seem to have changed and he turned into it fully, focusing on her to block out the rest of the room.

"Feeling a bit better?" she asked softly her gentle circles never stopping.

He shook his head. "No. My head is killing me. I... This room is so bright."

Ginny looked around the room before looking at him confusion clear on her face. "It's not that much brighter than the burrow when the windows are open." She leaned down, careful of where she put herself on the ground, "I'm going to go see if Mum or Dad is around. Hopefully the healer too. Are you going to be okay for a minute alone?"

He took a deep breath and nodded, shutting his eyes to block out the overwhelmingly vibrant room, "Please hurry." Color still showed through his eyelid, letting him watch Ginny walk away. Her fire was running across the room toward where he knew Pomfrey's office was. He couldn't see if Pomfrey was there, the walls of Hogwarts were too filled with magic for him to see through. He saw Ginny leave the office though, the billowing blue light of Madam Pomfrey following her.

Ginny's hand fell immediately onto his back again while Pomfrey knelt down in front of him, paying little mind to his sick. "Mr. Potter, how are you feeling right now, please describe it for me." She said immediately.

He cracked his eyes and saw her waving her wand over him, her eyes hard and focused. "My head hurts, it's tight. A tension headache, I'd guess, given the location. The room is too bright as well. Really bright. The sensory overload might be causing the headache but I can't be sure. I can't. . . I'm having a lot of trouble concentrating. Everything feels overwhelming." He said, trying to focus his thoughts and get them across as cleanly as he could.

"Is the room too bright or is it too colorful?" Pomfrey asked as her hand found his jaw, tilting his head up slightly as she inspected him.

"Too colorful." He answered immediately, the new position of his head forcing him to look at the stone wall, the color from the magic imbuing it overlaid with the color of the wall. It was even more disorienting then when he'd first gotten the eye.

Her lips quirked down and she nodded. She reached forward and slipped her hands under his armpits. "On three, Mr. Potter. Ready?" She asked. He nodded and she counted quickly before hefting him up. He helped to stand as she lifted. Her support helped far more than he expected though as he was on his feet. He felt wobbly and ready to drop back down. "Sit, sit." She said, gently pushing him back into the bed.

"Is he okay?" Ginny asked

"He appears fine, Ms. Weasley." She turned to the girl and looked her up and down, "are you well enough to watch him for a moment?"

"I'm fine. Better than."

Pomfrey's lips quirked again but not with the same dissatisfied look she'd had before. "Very well. Priddy." A familiar house elf popped into the room, "Please go inform the Headmaster and the Weasleys that the children are awake."

"Priddy be doing as the healy witch says." The elf said with a nod before popping out again.

"I'll be back in a moment, yell if anything happens, Ms. Weasley. Anything."

Ginny nodded quickly, and Pomfrey returned to her office. After the older witch was gone Ginny turned to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Any better?"

He shook his head. "No. More important things though." They'd passed out cold in the middle of their talk in the burrow. Now they were in the hospital wing of Hogwarts and he felt awful. That was just a little too much coincidence for him to agree with. "Do you remember anything? The last thing I can remember is Fawkes singing. It's all blank after that"

She shook her head. "No, that's all I remember too. I don't feel anything wrong though. I feel pretty good actually." She said, chuckling a little at the end. Her expression sobered a bit as she looked away from him. "Do you think you're hurting because . . . well, because of what we. . ."

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I can't think of any reason I'd get all blow-back and you wouldn't. I haven't changed at all, you have. If anything you'd be the one suffering because of it."

Ginny forced out a laugh as an unsteady smile settled on her face, "Well that's good to know I suppose."

He smiled at her and patted her thigh "So far as I can see you're a perfectly normal witch. Madam Pomfrey didn't even seem overly worried about what was happening."

"Well, you don't fall to the ground puking your guts out for no good reason," Ginny said. "That's generally a bad thing, Harry."

"Passing out suddenly for no obvious reason is also generally a bad thing, too." He countered. "One probably explains the other. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey would be in a far different mood if she thought something was truly wrong."

Ginny frowned but nodded nevertheless. She looked back toward the office and then to the door of the wing before looking back up to him. She hesitated a moment before leaning into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Can you see through the door?" she asked in a quiet voice. He looked up to the large wooden door of the hospital wing and nodded. He could see the wood. "Good, let me know before anyone comes in."

"You mean before your Mum and Dad come in." He said, a small smile lighting his lips. His head was still throbbing and the room as still too bright, but the nausea wasn't so overwhelming any longer.

"Well, I put on a shit display when we were talking to them. You certainly didn't help, telling them that you thought I was fascinating. Both academically and . . . what was the other word you used? I can't seem to recall."

"Well, I can't really remember much of yesterday." He said the same heat that he'd felt yesterday coming back.

"I think it's coming back, actually." Ginny continued, nudging him a bit. "I could swear that you used the word otherwise. What might that mean, Mr. Potter? Are you otherwise fascinated by me?" Harry coughed low in his throat as his breath got stuck. He pursed his lips as he craned his neck sideways to look at her as she leaned against his shoulder. "I think," She said slowly, "I'm justified in being wary of my parents right now. Now heads up, keep a lookout with that magic eye of yours."

His eyes lingered on her for a moment, but the smile on her face was as natural as he'd seen and he returned to his forced duty. She was warm next to him, anyway, and he couldn't deny that her presence was soothing.

* * *

Albus had passed exhausted around the time he'd pulled out one of his tomes on familiar bonds to read over with the elder Weasleys. They were right to be worried, of course, but the more he thought about it, the more it fell in line that of all the people that might be able to do something as impossible as binding another human as their familiar, Harry was a valid candidate.

A power unknown to Voldemort would have to be something odd, even impossible. For all the flaws of Tom Riddle, studying had never been one. The man was learned, for all his darker inclinations, and there were few fields he likely hadn't studied in his many years.

Dumbledore had many more years, though, and even he'd never seen a human familiar, as the young Ginevra appeared to now be.

Tired as he was, he still trudged along behind the Weasleys as they rushed down the long halls toward the Hospital wing where their awakened ward and daughter waited. Arthur moved ahead of his wife to push open the door as they entered. Harry and Ginevra were sitting on the bed they'd been placed in.

His old eyes ran over the pair quickly. Harry looked worse for wear but he was still smiling as he spoke to Ginevra. His hand still rested on her thigh, and though the pair saw Ginevra's parents approaching, neither made an attempt to move it.

As Arthur and Molly reached the children, he moved past them to meet Poppy as she walked toward him. "Has anything changed?" He asked in a low voice.

She shook her head. "No. It's his first time experiencing real magical exhaustion, so his symptoms aren't uncommon, I'm more surprised that Ms. Weasley isn't experiencing any."

"And the bond?" he asked, looking back to the pair. Harry had moved his hand from Ginevra's thigh, but now their shoulders and hips were together as they sat side by side.

"Intact, just like you said. I don't know what those kids did but it's a fully realized bond. Have Arthur and Molly decided what they want to do about it?"

He nodded. "They have. Have you recorded the rate of transference between them?"

"I have. So long as they're careful we shouldn't need to make any extra accommodations for them." Her eyes flickered over to them. "They're already touching each other without realizing it. So long as they have that contact throughout the day they shouldn't have any issues. I would like to have them check in once a week, at the minimum, though. Make sure nothing is going wrong. There is risk here, Albus."

"I'm aware. So are Arthur and Molly."

"The children should be made aware. This kind of bond between children, Albus. They need to know the long-term complications. They're old enough to understand how severe the consequences are."

"How old should a child be before you lay burden on their shoulders?" he asked. "They're old enough to understand, I agree, but should we put that weight on them?"

"She'll be reliant on him for the rest of her life," Poppy said, outrage clear in her voice. "They're children now, Albus, but how long before other things are occupying their mind. The responsibility you'd be putting on that boy. He'd never be able to have a regular relationship. She'd be a leach on more than just his magic."

"And should they find each other in those thoughts?" He asked, "Arthur and Molly have noted that they're rather close."

"They're children. Children on the cusp of puberty at that. They have no idea what they're feeling and by the time they do the damage will likely already be done. School is about more than learning, as you well know. This can and will affect their social growth, and that's not even getting deeper into the completely one-sided dependency that Ms. Weasley will have."

"I've discussed this with her parents, thoroughly. They – "

"Two or three years from now, when they're feeling rebellious or are just going through normal teenage angst. One bad day, one bad fight," Poppy interrupted glaring at him, "could leave her, in the best case, bitter and scornful at having wasted her time studying magic that she'll never be able to do independently. In the worst case, she'd be dead." She spoke at a furious pace, her voice never breaking a whisper.

She was right too, he knew. He breathed deeply, looking at the quiet fury on his healer's face. "Arthur and Molly are taking to them about the risks, about the consequences. Harry is far more mature than I think you give him credit for."

"And I think you expect too much from him," Poppy responded immediately, not losing a step. "He may have grown up faster than some but that's just asking for him to break under the pressure he's put on himself. The more responsibility you put on that boy the harder it will be to put him back together when he finally does break." She turned then and began walking back to her office. She stopped, mid-step, and turned back to him "Medically, they're both healthy. Ethically, I don't condone this and I won't have a part in it beyond making sure they both stay healthy."

He nodded slowly and she continued her retreat. He watched her go, half trying to listen to the hushed whispers of the Weasley clan and Harry, half trying to reclaim his thoughts. Poppy was right, of course. Ginevra would be able to use magic, so far as they could tell, but she'd be completely dependent on Harry for the remainder of her life. Whatever relationships she'd have would be predicated on the fact that she would have to spend so much time in physical contact with Harry.

Where an animal might need a few minutes every few days, Ginevra was a witch and she'd be actively using her magic. The safest path forward was casual contact, the kind they were already exhibiting, every day. They would age, though, and with age, complications would arise. Even he had buckled under less responsibility at an even older age than Harry was, to a disastrous end. Could he rightfully expect Harry to be better?

More than thought, could he ignore the impossibility of the situation? If Harry was awakening powers unknown and he worked to squash them before they developed, what would happen? Would he be damning everyone to protect one girl? A frown marred his face as he turned to look at the two children again. They were separated now, staring at each other as Arthur spoke to them. Molly was standing behind him, her hand over her mouth and unshed tears in her eyes.

Harry reached out slowly, putting his hand onto Ginevra's and he smiled weakly. Albus watched the interaction as closely as he could, the charm on his glasses showing the slow trickle of magic connecting the two, and he nodded to himself. He wouldn't interfere with this.

* * *

"Do you two understand?" Arthur asked slowly, staring at the two of them.

Harry gripped Ginevra's hand tighter and she squeezed back. Arthur had been detailed. He'd explained everything far beyond what Harry knew his ability was, and Harry could hear some of Dumbledore's speech pattern bleed into Arthur's own, likely the man saying exactly what he'd been told.

It was a lot though. He looked at where he and Ginny's hands were linked and saw where their magic met. Whereas before, it had stopped and he'd had to coax her magic into movement, now his magic flowed freely into hers, the blackness of his aura vanishing into her red. She was his familiar. It didn't make sense to him. Then again, her being a familiar to begin with didn't' make sense to him. He'd read about it, in passing, but even the little understanding he had said it wasn't possible.

She'd been using magic before his began to trickle into hers though. Of course, her magic had been darkening. It was no longer the radiant fire that it had started. It was more akin to an ember now, beautiful in its own way but not what it had started as. Maybe it was simply acclimating to his before any true connection could be formed. Would it darken further then?

Ginny squeezed his hand again, breaking him from his thoughts. She looked lost, scared and without prompting he found himself scared. What happened when they started dating? She'd need to spend a lot of time with him and that'd be enough for most blokes to be jealous as it was. That was ignoring that he was Harry Potter.

What happened if he started dating?

The thought struck him harder than he thought it would. He'd never even considered it before. He'd wanted to kiss Ginny over the summer, he'd liked it when she kissed him, he'd never thought of it beyond that though. Would they start dating now? No, they were too young. Didn't the kids in secondary school have age restrictions from their parents? He remembered more than one of them saying that.

Did Ginny have the same restrictions?

"I understand this is a lot," Arthur said, yet again drawing his attention back to the moment. "I need you both to answer the question, though. Your mother and I need to know that you understand."

Molly reached forward and grabbed Arthur's shoulder and his hand rose across his chest to hold onto it as he looked back to her for a moment. "It's a lot to think about." She said, her voice tight as her eyes watered. "It's too much to think about." She said again, far quieter.

"I understand," Harry said, glancing back to Ginny. As if she felt his eyes on her she looked too before she nodded.

"I get it, too." She said. "I'm sorry we didn't say anything sooner. We didn't think –"

"You certainly didn't." Molly bit out before looking away. Harry saw Arthur squeeze her hand as she grimaced and looked back to them. She opened her mouth and closed it again before she spoke again. "This bond, you'll be able to do magic. That's why your father and I are willing to take a chance. We need the both of you to understand though. Especially you, Harry. We, really, really, need you to understand."

He nodded. "I do." A hundred thoughts raced through his mind, a hundred futures. He could see their fears and he did understand them. They stood out with such startling contrast that he was almost overwhelmed by them.

"Ginny," Arthur said. "Do you understand?"

She looked between her parents and then back to Harry. He felt her trepidation and he knew that she did understand. "She does." He said for her, seeing her hesitation.

"Harry, we need to hear it from Ginny, we have to –"

"She understands," Dumbledore said, appearing at the foot of their bed. "What you just witnessed was familiar empathy. Harry could feel an echo of Ginevra's emotions, an echo of her thoughts. It helps bridge the communication gap that naturally exists between animal and human."

"He can read her mind?" Molly asked in a strained voice.

"No," Harry said quickly. "I wasn't, it wasn't like that."

"And you are right, Harry. It's not Telepathy or anything of the sort." Dumbledore said, walking around the bed and placing a calming hand or Molly's forearm. "It's an echo. Not a real thought, not a real emotion, just the feeling of them. She likely projected them on unconsciously."

Molly frowned but nodded. "Still, Ginny." She looked at her daughter expectantly.

"I understand, Mum," Ginny said after a moment.

Arthur swallowed and nodded, shutting his eyes tightly as he pursed his lips. "We have things to do then. Starting with a trip to Diagon Alley. If you're going to Hogwarts, you're going to need a wand."

* * *

"Is this the right thing, Arthur?" Molly asked as she sat on the edge of their bed. Arthur paced on their rug, following the same worn down path he had for years.

"I don't know." He said as he came to a stop in front of their window. "They both understand the risks though. They both agreed."

"They're children, and they obviously have crushes. Of course, they'd agree." Molly said as she stood up, unable to be still any longer. "What happens when those crushes fade? What happens when reality and they realize that they might not be quite as close as their hormones are telling them they are?"

Arthur shook his head slowly but didn't look to his wife. "We have to have faith in them."

"They're children, Arthur. This is wrong. We can't do this. I . . . I . . ."

Arthur turned and pulled his wife to him as she started crying. "I don't' know if this is the right thing." He said after a moment. "I don't think there is a right choice here. Both choices are impossible. I do think, though, that we made the best choice we could."

"You can't know that," Molly said, not lifting her head from the crook of his shoulder.

"I can't, no." He agreed. "But our daughter is going to Hogwarts. She's gonna learn magic. We can't take that away from her without taking a chance on it. This way . . . this way, even if things don't work out, we can look back knowing we did everything we could for her. So yes, this is the best choice."

* * *

"You know they haven't fallen asleep yet," Harry said as he leaned against the headboard of his bed, his head tilted so he could see the moon through his window.

"They're too distracted to notice me sneaking about," Ginny said as she moved to sit at the foot of the bed. "and I'm far too distracted to sleep myself."

Harry nodded, understanding. Usually, dilemmas like this didn't keep him up, didn't bother him into worry. He'd find a solution, use it, and everything would be fine. There was no solution here though, only a long gamble that everything would turn out okay. "It won't always be just us." He said, voicing his concerns. "I've watched people date and break up over the stupidest things. What happens when it's no longer just us? What happens if we find people and they can't deal with this?"

Ginny shrugged. "Obviously they weren't meant to be if they can't accept us. Though, that's a bit short minded. I mean, we've already been . . . you know."

"Kissing." He said. "Yeah, I'd thought of that. What happens if we date and then break up. What if one of us gets hurt and we can't stand to be around each other." He asked, dropping his head so he could look at her properly. "I've seen it happen to the happiest couples."

"Well, we can't know the future," Ginny said. She shut her eyes and a look of concentration crossed her face. She sat there for a moment before he felt it. The pang of affection was as strong as he expected it to be, given the emotion it was, but it still took him by surprise. "Dad told me stories about you when I was younger. Night time stories." She clarified as a blush took her cheeks. "I had little play weddings with you while playing with friends. Then I learned I was a squib and all that went away. Reality punched me in the face and I've had that black eye since. It feels like . . . I finally feel like that is getting better, and of all the people to fix it, it's you."

"Ginny," Harry said slowly. He didn't want to crush her, but he had to look at it realistically, logically.

"No, don't Ginny me. You're not my Mum or Dad. I like you Harry and yeah, I don't know if we'll work out and I don't know what'll happen if we do break up. I can't pass this chance up though. Damn you, damn the risks. Me. I can't pass this up. I'm going to go get a wand tomorrow, Harry. My own wand. That's worth it. We'll work out everything else after that." She took up her look of concentration again and after a moment he felt her sense of determination.

She would make it work, damn everything else.

He opened his mouth to argue but shut it as something else came up. It was new, surprising in its intensity and completely foreign to him. The edge of his lips twitched up against his will as he looked at her, her face scrunched up as she concentrated on making sure he knew she was serious. He felt old, tired, looking at her so full of determination. He admired it. "Okay." He said, simply.

Her eyes popped open as he spoke and the hope that had been there before blossomed into a smile as she quickly crawled up the bed toward him and kissed him. It wasn't as intense as their second kiss and it wasn't a sloppy as their first. This one was unique though because she pushed all the happiness she felt through it and he felt its echo inside himself as he kissed her back.

* * *

"Yew, eleven inches with a particularly large Chinese Fireball's heartstring as its core," Olivander said, the same overly excited tone he had when Harry first came to his stop still alive and well in the man.

Harry saw Arthur tense up as Ginny reached for the wand. With good reason too. While she had shot fire out of his wand in the burrow, she'd been far more destructive in Ollivander's shop. If not for the enchantments that let them fall slowly to the ground he imagine quite a few of the wands would be damaged in some way. He watched her magic jump into the wand just as it had in every other wand. He breathed a sigh of relief as her magic wrapped its way around the core of the wand and bounced back, a far more controlled halo of flame puffing out of the tip.

"Wow," Ginny said as she looked back to him. "You were right." She said.

"Generally, yes," Harry answered with a grin. "What are we talking about right now, though?"

She laughed, "It tingles."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him at that and Harry had to choke back a laugh.

* * *

"This place is packed, this year," Harry said. As he walked through the Flourish and Blotts.

"Last minute shoppers," Ginny said from his side. "It was really busy when we went to get Ron's stuff last year, too."

Harry hummed his response as they broke the book rows and entered the main area, to find Molly. "If they're shoppers then why are they all standing around?" he asked as they began to push to the standing crowd.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry looked up at the sudden exclamation, his hand instinctively going for his wand at the sound of his full name. The crowd seemed to realize who he was as their eyes found him.

"Come on! Come on! Let's get him up here!" the voice said. The crowd parted a little, giving him a path to the front. He saw Molly there, standing near the front, but he also saw a small makeshift stage with a desk set up on top of it, stacks of books set up around it, and the most flamboyant man he'd ever seen.

"Who is that?" Harry whispered as he began walking toward Molly.

"I think that's Gilderoy Lockhart," Ginny whispered back.

Harry cocked his head at her at that. This guy was going to be the defense professor. He felt a bit of relief at that, but his fear far outweighed that relief. Would this man try to kill him too? Would he be able to stop him if he tried?

"Go on, Harry," Molly said when they finally reached her, motioning him up to the stage.

"Mum, I don't think –"

"It's alright Ginny. Go on, Harry dear."

Harry hesitated and the man's unflappable smile fell a bit before coming back just as strong. He took an overly large step and let himself flop off the stage as he came up to Harry. "Harry Potter." He said again, "As I live and breathe. What a pleasure it must be for all of you," His voice rose as he looked around the crowd "to see both us here in one place! Now I knew you'd be going to Hogwarts this year and I've prepared a little gift for you."

He ran back up to his stage and grabbed a pile of books that were sitting on the desk. Harry glanced at Ginny, who was wearing the most annoyingly self-satisfied smirk he'd seen on her yet.

"Here you go, here you go," Lockhart said as he brought the books back and held them out for Harry. "My complete works, free of charge, signed by yours truly. Everything you'll need this year for defense against the dark arts, which I will, personally, be teaching."

The crowd loved it, apparently as they started clapping. "Thank you, sir," Harry said slowly looking at the books.

"Nonsense, Harry! There's no need to thank me. We celebrities need to stick together, after all." He said, kneeling down as a few people with camera's pushed to the front of the crowd, Ginny and Molly getting pushed behind them. Molly actually looked rather worried now, but Ginny was covering her annoyingly self-satisfied smirk as he glared at her. "Now let's put on a big smile." He said as he raised his hand toward the camera. "We'll make the front page of the prophet with this."

* * *

"That was awful," Harry said as he followed Molly and Ginny toward the exit. The crowd had finally let him free and refocused their attention on Lockhart.

"Mr. Lockhart is an amazing man, Harry," Molly said. "He's been all over the world dealing with all sorts of creatures."

"Trust her on that. She's read all his books. Twice." Ginny said, leaning toward him and whispering it overly loudly.

"Oh shush, you," Molly said, smiling as she did. "We're lucky that professor Dumbledore was able to get him on as a professor this year. You'll be able to learn a lot from him."

Harry sighed and looked at the books that he'd been given. They all had Lockhart on the cover, moving around and striking poses and smiling. They hardly seemed like books that were meant for a classroom.

"Oh, this can't be good," Molly said under her breath.

Harry looked toward the door and found Ron standing beside his Dad who was talking to a slightly taller man with blond hair. It wasn't until Harry say Draco that he realized the problem. Arthur did not look happy at all and the man wore the kind of demeaning smirk that Draco flashed around all the time at school. It was a shock, still, when Arthur turned back and handed Ron the cauldron full of books he'd been holding and twisted on spot, punching the other man in the face.

"Arthur!" Molly yelled as the man shot back up, hitting Arthur in the stomach with his cane before punching him as well. Arthur, his balance taken from him by the blow to the stomach, fell back when he was hit in the face, knocking Ron down with him as he fell.

"Really, Weasley." The man said as he leaned down, grabbing Ron's arm and hefting him up before going back for the cauldron. "Try not to behave so uncivilized in public." He lifted up the cauldron and fingered through the books before chuckling and dropping it back down to his side. "Though, uncivilized may be the appropriate word, after all." He shoved the Cauldron back into Ron's arms, "Come, Draco, your mother is waiting."

Arthur scowled from the floor as he attempted to rise up and have another go at the man. Molly was there though, grabbing his shoulder and whispering harshly in his ear.

"I'm guessing your dad and Malfoy's don't get along," Harry said, glancing at Ginny.

"Like oil and water." She said. "Dad doesn't talk about it much but Malfoy is constantly shutting down Dad's projects at work. Dad was trying to organize something this summer, but he wouldn't talk about it. Gotta guess Malfoy did something."

"Draco had to learn it from somewhere, I suppose. You don't come out that annoying."

Ginny laughed at that. "True enough, I suppose. Do I have that to look forward to this year?"

Harry shrugged. "He and your brother got into it a bit but I'm not in any classes with him and I don't hang out with any of the same people. Hermione's come head to head with him a few times though. Hearing her tell it, he's the worst thing to happen to Hogwarts, ever."

"Well, I'm looking forward to meeting her then." Ginny said, "Anyone that's willing to have a go at Malfoy is good in my book."

* * *

The Weasley's made their way onto the platform with precious few minutes to spare, as Harry had learned was practically ritual for the clan.

"You look out for your sister now," Molly said as she pulled Georges robes straight.

"She's gonna take over the school, she is. We're gonna have to be watching our backs from her." He said, nudging Fred.

Fred nodded. "Thought we'd be safe at Hogwarts, safest place in the country. All lies."

"Oh shush." She said, swatting at their chests.

Harry chuckled at that and looked to Arthur, who was on a knee with Ginny.

"You have everything pumpkin?"

"I do." She huffed out.

Arthur smiled at her. "If you need anything, anything at all, you write. Actually, write even if you don't need anything."

"I'll be fine, Dad." She said. "Really."

"And don't forget your appointments with Madam Pomfrey." Arthur looked at Harry. "You too, young man."

"We'll be there every week," Harry said. "And I'll make sure she writes."

Arthurs' shoulders sagged and he opened his arms. "Come here pumpkin. One last hug."

The shrill whistle of the train drew all their attention and Ginny wrapped her arms around her father. Fred and George grabbed their trunks and made their way into the train quickly, as Molly made her way to Ginny and opened her arms expectantly too.

Harry watched the embraces quietly as he waited.

"We love you, dear," Molly said as she released Ginny. "We'll see you at Christmas, yes."

"Yes, Mum. I love you guys too." She stepped back and grabbed her new trunk and stopped at his side. "Come on." She said, a big smile lighting her face as she looked at the Hogwarts express.

He nodded and waved to her parents as she started up onto the train.

* * *

Susan, Su, and Hermione took Ginny's presence far more gracefully than he expected. Hermione and Susan were always going to be fine, but Su was a bit brasher than their groups Hufflepuff representatives. She accepted the youngest Weasley well enough though. Hermione surprised him with how fine she was, though. He'd expected some reaction from her with Ginny's connection to Ron, but she'd been perfectly congenial.

She hadn't brought it up at all though. She didn't bring up the letter Ron had sent her either. Harry was perfectly happy to let her do whatever she would, however, fast she wanted, but in the two months he'd been forced into close contact with Ron, he'd learned that youngest male Weasley wasn't one for patience and he did seem genuine in his desire to properly apologize.

He'd probably do something wrong if he got impatient.

That would be his problem though, Harry decided while Ginny chatted with the other girls. He felt her ankle pressing against his as they kept their legs stretched out across the small space between benches. Nobody had said anything about it, thankfully, because he didn't really want to face any of them and lie. Dumbledore hadn't said anything about keeping it a secret. He'd been very vague about the truth of the matter.

The healers had been wrong. That's the story that Dumbledore had spread to those curious enough to ask about Ginny's presence. They hadn't found out until they'd taken her to Diagon Alley shopping for her brother and she happened to pick up a wand.

It was a poor excuse, Harry thought, but so far nobody had attempted to look any deeper.

Harry wasn't sure about his ability to lie to his friends though. He wasn't sure he could look them in the eye and tell them that story if they asked him directly.

"Okay," Hermione said suddenly, cutting off Ginny's questions about what Hogwarts was like. Hermione turned in her seat, facing him fully, and put a serious look on her face. "I'm not just going to ignore this anymore. What happened at the end of last year? You vanished at the end of the year, all your letters this summer were entirely unhelpful, and now you're sitting here with an eye patch on like nothing at all has happened."

Harry glanced around the cabin. Hermione had been the one who asked but Susan and Su looked just as interested. Ginny just smiled softly and looked at him expectantly. He huffed out a sigh and smiled up to Hermione. He hadn't even told Ginny the whole truth yet. Dumbledore and whoever he was speaking to inside the ministry were the only ones who knew the whole truth.

Could he trust them with the truth? Would Dumbledore want him to tell them and leave such a glaring weakness in their veil of secrecy? He was already a hole in the veil. Tonks had gotten him into the basics of occlumency but anyone that wanted into his mind could still get into it easily enough. Four girls, four second and first-year Hogwarts students, knowing as well seemed like an even large hole.

Voldemort was an active threat though. He'd been inside Hogwarts last year and, thankfully, he'd only come after Harry. Something fierce coiled inside him at that and he set his jaw, focusing on the present again. He'd gotten training from an Auror. It wasn't the most comprehensive and he still had a lot to learn, but it was a sight more preparation than they had. He couldn't let anything like that happen.

"Last year, Professor Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort," He started.

* * *

Finally moving past 60,000 words! Tell me what you think in the form of a review. I know not everyone liked the whole bond thing but I agonized over the decision to include it for over a year before deciding that I couldn't move forward without it in the story. I promise I'm not mindlessly introducing aspects to this story just for the sake of having them, I'm working toward an end game, even if we're only in second year.


End file.
